Dreams Undreamt
by precious-passenger
Summary: This story is part two of Unanswered Goodbyes, this time from Kurt's POV. It could be read alone, but reading "Unanswered Goodbyes" first might be a good idea.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Dreams Undreamt.

Summary: This story is continuing Unanswered Goodbyes, this time from Kurt's POV. It could be read alone, but reading "Unanswered Goodbyes" first might be a good idea.

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A/N: I'm thinking of continuing the Unanswered Goodbyes 'verse all through the third season, showing Kurt's progress to depression and depending on how evil my mind will become, coming back from or going deeper into it.

One thing I would like to change about canon, let's pretend Quinn's car crash didn't happen, ok? If you like that storyline to happen, mention it and I'd be glad to fit it somewhere. But I just want to focus on Kurt's misery for now.

**Important note:** Ok guys. I'm a horrible person. There were some problems with me being new to this site and I just accidentally on purpose deleted this story. So I'm posting it again. So sorry about it :(

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Warnings for this chapter: Suicide attempt mention.

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While the McKinley High kids seemed to just ignore the fact that one of their own had wanted to take his own life about a week ago, Kurt believed that he was still in shock.

He couldn't concentrate much in his classes. Not that it was something he did before; the lessons were too easy to capture his attention. He could pass any of it in his sleep. But the daydreaming was approaching an alarming degree.

Oh well, that's what happens when you only have few months of high school left.

Poor Blaine, he thought. Two years of Dalton had prepared him to just graduate already and he had to wait another year of boring subjects. Many Calculus sessions, which sadly was one of the classes they were apart from each other in it, had been spent texting or doodling. Kurt had tried to cheer him up that now they get more time to hang out with each other. It was an extremely unattractive and sadly often occurrence in his time at Dalton that he'd fall asleep in the middle of a movie or a date because he'd spent the whole day studying. That small fact that they were together never failed to light up Blaine's face. He'd grab his hand and although people weren't as supportive as Dalton, it was easy to pretend they were in an empty hallway and just share loving glances along the way.

He smiled at the lunch ladies as they filled his plate with some salad and today's meal, which appeared to be stew of some sort. Anyone with the heart, and nose, to stand that much time near the food that revolting deserved an award, but sadly a smile and a muttered "thank you" would have to do for now.

No, he was distracted because in Calculus, apart from the usual cute text Blaine sent him, there was one more text. It was a simple "Starting therapy today. School sucks…- Dave" but somehow he couldn't help but reread it until his teacher threatened to take away his phone.

He'd invited Blaine to hang out that evening. Lately the boy seemed in his own shell, sad even, and he'd been extra clingy, always making up an excuse to stay a few more minutes or hold onto him longer. It was heading to a worrying pattern and Kurt was determined to find out what was happening with his boyfriend.

Blaine followed him in his car to Kurt's home and was beside him in a matter of minutes, his hand circled around his waist as Kurt was unlocking the door. They hanged around in Kurt's room, enjoying some moments of privacy, before Burt would go out of his way to step in front of his room, nagging about keeping the door open or worse, Finn stomping around the house like an unchained animal.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Kurt asked Blaine. Blaine nodded excitedly. They both knew that watching a movie was just an excuse to cuddle comfortably and maybe steal a few kisses and not innocent touches when they would get bored of the plot. So that was why they had gathered an exclusive set of movies they could watch that was watched too many times to miss anything important when they became absorbed in each other, but still not so boring that would ruin the mood and make them fall asleep. So, with trial and error they'd gathered quite a collection.

"How about Rent?" Kurt showed the DVD hopefully while Blaine was sitting across from him, with Moulin Rouge DVD in his hand.

"Come on, Blaine. As much as "Come What May" is romantic to watch, we both know that listening to Satine coughing would be beyond disturbing not to mention all the blood is a huge turn-off, and finally I become a hell of an emotional mess in the last scene."

"Fine, but next time I'm choosing." Blaine agreed a small pout on his mouth that Kurt kissed away as the movie started.

There was nothing unusual during the first act. They laughed and sang along, Kurt soloing the "Today for you" and itching to stand up and dance, but the comfortable feeling of having Blaine gathered in his arms, counting his soft breaths was enough for him to remain just where he was.

However, during the second act, he could feel Blaine pull further from him and turn his face away.

_Without you, the tides change, the boys run, the oceans crash.  
The crowds roar, the days soar, the babies cry, without you.  
The moon glows, the river flows, but I die, without you._

He was almost sure that the boy was crying as the song was coming to close. The bed was shaking a bit and he could hear silent sniffles.

_Without you, the eyes gaze, the legs walk, the lungs breathe.  
The mind churns  
The heart yearns_

_The tears dry, without you. Life goes on, but I'm gone.  
Cause I die, without you.  
Without you._

Kurt touched his shoulder gently. "Blaine?"

He paused the movie when the boy didn't make a move to show that he'd heard him. Finally, Blaine turned around and Kurt had mere seconds to react before Blaine lunged himself into his arms, no longer containing the sobs that was escaping freely now. Kurt rocked him back and forth gently, shushing him and rubbing his back as his mind scrambled into useless thoughts. Blaine wasn't upset over the scene, he couldn't be, he rarely cried like that, but it seemed that it triggered something in the boy that made him break down. But what?

"I'm so scared, Kurt." He whispered brokenly.

"What are you scared of?" Kurt asked, baffled. What could've happened to him?

"Losing you… finding you dead, just like…" and he lost it again.

"I know that you had a shitty junior year, but you weren't that bad, were you? You wouldn't have thought of killing yourself?"

Blaine was just so heartbroken and sad, and to think that it was because he was worried about him.

"Did you ever think about it, Kurt?"

So not everyone was over Karofsky's suicide, it seemed. Of course, why didn't it even occur to Kurt to watch out for his boyfriend? And to think that he was planning to join him visiting Dave in the hospital.

There was another round of sobbing, this time Kurt shed a few tears himself and couldn't help whispering into the boy's ears "I'm right here Blaine, I'm not going anywhere". And then he began assuring him that he wasn't going to pull anything like what Karofsky did, and each time he'd kiss him, as if sealing that promise.

Blaine looked noticeably better after that, but it was almost time to go. Kurt was glad Blaine had opened up to him and told him about his concerns. He was also glad that he'd thought of meeting after school today.

"See you at school tomorrow?"

"See you. I love you."

"Love you too."

And once again they were glued back together, by the simple words that never lost its meaning despite the familiarity. He felt a pang in his chest as Blaine pulled back from the kiss, waved him goodbye and went to unlock his car, driving away.

Why hadn't he ever felt the need to end things?

He guessed that maybe depression or suicide was never an option for him. He wasn't going to give himself time to even think about it. The idiots who mocked him and treated him like a piece of shit weren't worth the time of his day. He'd brush it off. Although he'd be a fool if he wouldn't admit that some days were particularly hard, like the day he was elected as the prom queen, but he managed. He was fine, really. And he had Blaine and his father, a new family and a group of friends in glee club that more than made up for some ignorant haters.

Kurt Hummel didn't get depressed or suicidal.

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A/N: Sweet innocent Kurt, breaking him seems sad and evil. Oh well. So, Yay or nay?

Thoughts? Suggestions?


	2. Chapter 2 : Goodnight, Sweetheart

Chapter 2

Title: Goodnight, Sweetheart

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A/N: So this is going to become an M rating for the same reason as Unanswered Goodbye

. So keep an eye out please. I'll post these warnings once and just add extra triggering mentions in following chapters.

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Warning: suicide mention, mentions of self-harm, depressing thoughts, slight bullying.

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The phone buzzes one last time in his hands, making him jump and try to stifle a gasp.

This wasn't supposed to become anything like this.

It was almost two weeks , thirteen days to be exact, after Dave Karofsky's suicide attempt, ten days after Kurt had started texting him, three days after he'd learned that Dave had stopped going to therapy and almost an hour and a half after he'd found out that Dave was trying to kill himself again tonight.

His fingers started unlocking the screen without him having any awareness of doing so. Kurt hoped that this last message was just Karofsky informing him that all the last hour of desperate calls and messages had indeed helped and he's just going to sleep everything off… or if it hadn't helped then damn it, just say that all of this had been nothing but a silly little prank. Or it could be anybody, right? Just … could it be Blaine?

He missed his boyfriend dearly, and although he saw him more than he had ever hoped he would after transferring from Dalton, it never seemed enough.

He was being ridiculous. He had a much more urgent matter in his hand.

It was not this hard and time-consuming activity from the beginning. At first, it was just enough to send one or two texts between class breaks, usually answering the boy's texts about the condition of his new school. Sometimes Kurt would just share a silly random observation in school, which the boy thanked him every time by a simple text of "Thank you for thinking about me, Kurt". The paranoid part of him was actually terrified of it but it was always silenced by the rational part that reminded him that he should be happy for making Dave's day a bit better.

And then in the afternoon, he'd listen to the boy go on and on about his therapy sessions, the conversation over the course of a week turned a little too detailed and personal for Kurt's own taste but who was he to complain? Sometimes people just need to ramble on to get some thoughts out of their heads and think clearly. He was always happy to provide a listening ear, whether it was Rachel, bless her screeching voice or an ex-bully turned into something friendlier.

"_Goodbye, Kurt … - Dave"_

The simple less than twenty characters message was enough to turn Kurt's world upside down.

Desperate calls that was instead answered by an idiot machine noise, informing him to try again later…_There might be no later, damn it_ …texts that were typed slower than he should've typed with no delivery reports … and then, voicemail… Kurt was pretty sure he'd been sobbing in his last voicemail.

"_I could have done more when __Dave was having problems with Porcelain_" the voice of his ex-coach wouldn't get out of his head.

Why couldn't he do something right in his life?

Blaine went through enough crap at school for being his boyfriend, not to mention the slushie attack from Sebastian that was meant for him and almost cost Blaine his eye.

And his dad, who had a heart attack the one morning they had a disagreement.

"_Guys, we were all hard on Dave. We thought he was going to hurt Kurt. I just never thought he'd hurt himself."_

Damn it, why hadn't he taken this one thing seriously? Dave wasn't looking for just a friend to nag and ramble to, he was asking for help, he'd been asking for help and Kurt had just took everything lightly, making a joke of it. Why would he even think that distraction would work when you were spiraling down your depression? Who gives that kind of silly advice?

Who knew how many other mistakes he'd made and still think that he was … worth something?

_One more disaster I can add to my_

_Generous supply_

That night was the first of the many nights that Kurt forced himself to sleep with the help of the painkillers he always had ready in his cabinet but never used.

He felt like he hadn't really slept when his alarm went off. He was never a morning person but today took disorientation to a whole new level. He couldn't remember what he had for breakfast or if he'd moisturized, and next thing he knew he was in school and Blaine was holding his hand, guiding him to History class. The simple everyday gesture felt off for him. He'd promised Dave that he'd have that, and he'd become a chief editor of who knows what, if he just held on… But now what?

Blaine looked taken aback and a bit thoughtful as Kurt drew his hand back. Kurt couldn't stand not knowing, his brain might blow up at any moment. Then a plan formed in his head.

How he could stand until launch period was a mystery, but right after the class finished, he jumped out of his car and drove straight to Karofsky's school, trying to keep within speed limit and not let his shaking hands affect the car.

He had minimum trouble finding the school thanks to the GPS and the staff let him get into school with no fuss whatsoever. He went straight to the courtyard, as the lunch time was starting to end. The school didn't feel like they'd received horrible news and was buzzing with noise and excitement. _This is good_, he let himself be comforted by it_._ His eyes continued scanning the crowd until he found him, almost hidden in a corner, sitting miserably by a bench. Dave was looking at him, but made no move to approach. Kurt also couldn't move. He felt his head move to give a single nod of acknowledgment that was returned. He inspected the boy for a few more seconds and then turned on his heels and left.

Keep your eyes on the road, don't think.

When he reached home, it was empty. He had to start right now. He had to set everything right.

_"Act happy, feel happy, be happy, without a reason in the world. Then you can love, and do what you will...- Kurt" _

":)" was the single reply.

Orange juice and cereal, he suddenly found out, _that's what I've eaten for breakfast_, and he felt the said meal's taste right in his throat. He just had seconds to reach bathroom before throwing up.

Kurt was sure that he shouldn't take this much dosage in less than 24 hours or he shouldn't do it with no food in his stomach but fuck it, he just wanted sleep, and feel that numbness and relief.

He just had enough time to text Blaine and write an identical note on the refrigerator, "I'm fine, just tired. Don't worry and don't wake me up".

Then he collapsed on his bed and without argument sleep took him in.

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A/N: I need to edit the next chapters and give it a nice time order, so expect a string of updates in the next 24 hours.

The inspirational quote was from _Dan Millman. _No idea who he is. I just found the quote interesting.

The verse used in this chapter was _No Good Deed_ from _Wicked_. I'm adding some songs to my story because, well, it is glee and also I'm trying new things to make my writing better.

You know what else would make my writing better? I'm sure you do ;)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Yes, I do realize that my story is more, Kurt/Karofsky non-romantic relationship, but I don't like the guy, Karofsky and as a huge Klaine shipper I can't bring myself to add any other character in the story character's segment other than Kurt H. and Blaine A. . So yeah!

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If he'd thought that the first two weeks of keeping in touch with Dave was hard, nothing could compare to the weeks after that.

McKinley was the same old dump it was; the only ray of light there was the few sessions of glee and lunch with the members. Kurt found himself easily startled by the smallest noise and that had become a popular target for the bullies, not that he already wasn't enjoying the VIP treatment the school body had for him. On the other hand, as the school was drawing to its last months, the teachers were picking up the pace and assigned tons of homework. The content of the homework was comical but the sheer amount of it was making Kurt's head hurt and make the sleepless nights even more distressing. And to top it all off, Rachel wouldn't leave him alone and bugged him for hours about potential audition songs, although they hadn't even received the preliminary acceptance letters. Escaping Rachel was a very difficult must-do.

So it wasn't much of a surprise that he was scatterbrained, rivaling with Brittany at some points. Burt had found his phone inside a pot in the kitchen, blasting away his ringtone _"Defying Gravity"_…

"Where's your head, son? You were lucky I recognized that Gravity song it was playing or I could've sworn it was coming from the street."

He was feeling like a juggler, all these tasks in his hand and he, a very tired clown, counting the days for school to end.

And then there was Blaine, his very neglected and displeased boyfriend. Blaine was basically generating a "concerned" aura and constantly trying to assure him that he really was fine, was another added chore to the long list of things everyone was expecting him to do. He had to be extra careful around Blaine and try not to let his mind wander too far or Blaine had his own sweet way of trying to help that was not helping.

He wanted to tell Blaine to stop trying too hard to cheer him up, but he didn't want to break the boy's heart more than it he probably unintentionally did.

And then there were the texts from Karofsky, which were the debacle of the day. He'd actually had cancelled some of his online orders so he could afford to pay his phone bill. Like a lottery ticket, sometimes it was extra hard, like settling an existential debate text while on a date with Blaine.

And some messages just threw him in a loop.

"_I just wished I had died that day"_ or _"Nobody cares. What's the use of this life anyway?"_ These texts would just creep when he'd least expected it, usually after a set of friendly and safe ones and he knew he should know how to respond to that after that many texts but he couldn't. This was the jackpot, the scariest part. But each time after pulling Dave off from one of these funks he couldn't help but feel a bit proud.

Blaine had tried to serenade him at glee today with P!nk of all things, and was making seductive faces at him, jumping up and down every imaginable furniture. It was amusing, to say the least. Blaine should've know by now that he was beyond sexy, if only he didn't try too much, because when he tried too much, wiggling his hips, singing and flirting with lines like:

_Everybody's dancing and they're dancing for me _

_I'm your operator, you can call anytime_

_I'll be your connection to the party line_

And basically wearing his "Notice me!" sign, it was just adorable. Far from a baby penguin look Kurt himself had of course, and more like a very handsome Taylor Launter in a clown dress.

But right then he felt a buzz going through his pocket, so he missed Blaine's antiques as he was belting the last note. It was just an advertisement from the local mall. He joined into the applause a minute too late, and he was sure Blaine noticed it as his face fell considerably.

He'd make up to Blaine. A coffee date after school maybe? But damn, he still had an unfinished essay for tomorrow and Rachel was looking at him like a predator. He waved to everyone once and exited the door. He would make it up later.

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A/N: I'm one of those people that after reading a story constantly wonder what the other person in the story has to say. And writing Kurt is like writing me! I mean sure, the experiences sometimes match (not always) but I'm sure I couldn't write this with Blaine as main character.

Thoughts? Cookies?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hi guys! Long time no see. So this is from Chapter eight of Unanswered Goodbyes, the edit is minimal; I just put it here to keep up with the timeline of the story.

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Warning: Self-harm

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He doesn't know what he's dreaming about, but he knows that he is dreaming. There's no way his chest would be filled with this much calm and peace in real life. Everything is so unreal without the constant nagging there, without all the worry that had been eating him alive for a while now.

He looks around in his daze, becoming aware of his surroundings. He'd slept on his desk, music softly playing his top played soundtracks. His face feels buried in layers after layers of dead skin. He's given up looking at himself in the mirror a long while ago.

Kurt rubbed his eyes and started to sit up slowly, his head spinning slightly. He tried to count in his head when was the last time he had eaten anything solid, something other than his magic ingredients: water, salt and sugar. Both Tasteless and revolting at the same time. His mind failed him. It wasn't the first time.

Kurt glanced around, searching for his phone. He had developed the habit of reminding everyone to text him now and then. _"Hey Rachel, don't forget to text me the name of the song later" …"Will do, Tina, but just in case send me a message so I won't forget"… "Sure, Mercedes, text me the details of that scarf, I'll look it up later"_

He'd made sure to throw it casually in his sentences so he wouldn't seem needy, desperate or suspicious.

But then there was Blaine. He couldn't ignore the beating he'd feel in his stomach each time Blaine got on his car to drive home. He couldn't help his voice breaking every time he reminded him to send him a message, it doesn't even have to contain a text, he'd insist, as soon as he got home. What if he lost Blaine? What if he forgot to call him? What would be left of him, then? Shit, he was so pathetic.

He fetched it from under his notes, heartbeat stopping and continuing double speed as he looked at the single message it was displayed on the screen. The message that was sent less than a minute ago, its buzzing sound no doubt rose him up from his sleep.

"_I'm thinking about it again… - Dave"_

Thoughts rushed to his head. He'd contemplated putting Dave in his blocked numbers, so he wouldn't get an alert when he texted him. _Stupid, why would you even think that?_ Dave needed him. How dare he could give up on him? Not after failing him the first time. How bad this time would be? Would Dave hang up on him and turn his phone off again? Please, no.

He banged his head against the desk once. The action stopped surprising him long ago. He had the sudden image of a flickering flashlight, dying away, that you'd hit against a hard surface for a few more moments of light. He couldn't afford to get lost in thoughts now. With his head cleared up, he fell into the procedure, the routine.

Kurt pressed the button to call, always preferring not to text, although texting never showed how distressed he himself was. It went straight to the voicemail.

"_Dave, please, pick up the phone. Just don't think about it. Distract yourself. Call me if you need to talk." _

Silence followed, almost making Kurt hope that he'd succeed. But then a buzz, followed by another, brought him back from his supposed victory.

"_I wish I'd waited longer that day I decided to hang myself. Or just followed my original plan and did it at school."_

"_I can't go on like this, Kurt. No one would miss me now. I'm crying in my room and no one has even noticed. I wish I'd died a month ago."_

Kurt felt cold chill spreading through him. His fingers shook as he typed the next text.

_"You Safe?"_

The answer wouldn't come and Kurt could feel his throat closing up, his head spinning slightly. He felt like he'd throw up at any moment now. His nails began to dig painfully in his skin, circling the surface in a crazy pattern.

_"I'm safe. You don't have to feel worried for me, Kurt. I'm too much of a coward to try it again"_

Kurt exhaled loudly. The sentence never failed to bring a brief wave of relief Kurt clung to.

_"Are you alone?"_

The silence in his room chilled him to his core, he turned the volume up.

_"No, mom is here. She's arguing with dad downstairs. Surprise, surprise!"_

_"You know that I'd be devastated if you'd died. And I'm sure a lot of others would too."_

_"Really?"_

_"Of course. Just stay strong, Dave."_

"_I don't want to stay strong. I just want to feel normal again."_

_Me too_, Kurt thought to himself. _Let's just kill ourselves together and get this all over… what's the use of continuing this life anyway?_ He ignored the annoying voice in his head and typed.

"_It will get better. You've got to believe it. Someone will love you no matter your flaws, because of your flaws even. You're fabulous; the world just can't see it now, but it will."_

"_You're right. I feel so much better now."_

Was he lying? Or did he really help?

"_I'm glad."_

"_Thank you, Goodnight."_

"_Goodnight."_

Kurt threw his phone in the bed, it landed on the floor, but he couldn't care less. He resisted sliding down the floor as well. He refused to let himself think. Today, it wasn't that bad. But it made him feel drained just like any other day.

He crawled up the stairs, forcing his feet to move despite their protest, dragging himself to the kitchen, contemplating his next move. He had to be away from his room, from his mind, at least for a while.

He filled a glass with water and took a gulp. He held back a gag and began sipping some more, slowly.

On his way back, he looked at the closed doors frantically.

He heard the muffled voices of a video game behind Finn's door. He leaned his head against the door and weighted his options. Clueless Finn was probably his safest choice if he just wanted to spend some time away from himself. But Kurt had soon found out, the chances that Finn would say something innocent that would drive him over his limit were pretty high.

He stood in front of the other door, feeling like a kid again. How he wished he could go to his dad and just lose it… became a blubbering mess while Burt held him, because he couldn't feel like he was able to hold himself again.

Or he could just go and lie on the floor of his parents' bedroom, right under Burt's side. The thought brought back a string of memories. After his mother had passed away, he couldn't make himself move to her side and sleep in the same bed as his fathers' so he settled on the floor, letting the steady rhythm of Burt's breathing calm down his own. His dad had become used to checking the floor before getting off the bed, after stepping on his sleeping son in more than one occasion. Little Kurt claimed to never know how he'd end up there, he blamed sleep walking sometimes. Burt's eyes would become glassy and he'd try to subtly clue his son in that he could ask for his help. He should accept the hugs, even though they were somehow hesitant and awkward, not the soft and gentle ones he was missing. It wasn't until one time that Burt had slid beside him on the floor and held him in his arms after he crawled in the bedroom that it stopped feeling like it was the end of the world and got a little better.

He could just quietly wake Carole up and think of an excuse to … fuck, no, what's he thinking? He could get through the night without creeping his family out.

He made his way to his own room. It was a school night. Tomorrow, well today, would be hell. If only he could catch another hour or two of sleep.

He almost didn't realize where he was going until he felt a sharp pain on his wrist. What the..?

He was sitting on the bathroom floor, the scissor held in his hand, tracing the lines of his vein. Writing words. Tonight he pushed the scissor deeper than he'd used to. The irritated skin not healing immediately, but leaving a thin line of scratch shaped line.

Just do it, you're really close. _I wonder what new movie I have on my laptop._

That blade won't do shit._ What's that song playing? Is it from the scene when Satine finds out about her illness? How did the next verse go? Think, Kurt, think._

Just pick a shard of glass, or a real razor. _Orange shouldn't be in trend anymore. _

He knew if he dropped his scissor far enough, he wouldn't have the energy to pick it up again. But he couldn't let go.

I'm not technically harming myself now, am I?_ Fuck you, Kurt Hummel, who cares what the technicalities are? You're scaring the fuck out of yourself. Just get up and leave the bathroom._

He got up from the floor, wobbling to his bed. Turning off the music and lights. He stared at the darkness, silence offering him the soft blanket that couldn't calm him anymore.

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A/N: Another update will be coming through soon! Brace yourselves!


	5. Chapter 5:Don't Dream it's Over

Chapter 5:

Title: Don't Dream It's Over

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A/N: Sorry for the late update despite what I'd promised, life happened. A shitty life happened, to be exact.

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Warning: might be triggering for Self-harm.

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What was the hardest part of Kurt's day, you'd ask, and the answer would be the single "I'm fine, how are you?" response he'd give to Dave, a ritual of Dave to ask after Kurt's day and then launch into his own miserable story. Nothing annoyed more Kurt than writing that "I'm fine", even though he really was fine, because the contrast of his problems with Dave's were laughable.

Stupid lunch ladies, it seems that it didn't occur to them that he's just smiling to them without any ulterior motive to get more food. Honestly, the amount they already put in the tray is gigantic. Not to mention the smell. Even though in the past week he'd been giving almost all of his food to Finn, which was an absolute joy and success for both boys. But as luck would have it, Blaine had somehow caught up on it and was making sure that Kurt had enough on his tray to eat, denying Finn the second helping, and so did the lunch ladies it seemed, because lately it was as if he had a sign of "under-fed child" on his forehead or something because they'd began ignoring their aversion to interacting with an obvious outcast student and offered to come with them to the kitchen for a "nice warm meal" or "come for a chat and a place to eat". Nothing makes you hate your life more, Kurt concluded, when even the lunch ladies pity you.

The thing none seemed to understand was, Kurt Hummel didn't stop eating because he'd gotten depressed or didn't like his body. The problem was he always threw up afterwards and when he could survive with basic minerals and some sugar in his system and be happy with it, so why bother?

Did he wish that he wasn't like this? Sure, he wished it with every spinning of his head. Of course, Kurt missed being normal, but right now he was feeling on edge and far from normal that even remembering the time that he was less tense seemed like a kind of fantasy. Just like his dreams, which were more like nightmares. When he was able to sleep, nightmare were a given.

_Sleep_, Kurt chuckled darkly to himself, earning a few turned heads. It was as if sleep had declared itself Kurt's mortal enemy. The brief moments when he slipped into unconsciousness were filled with scenes causing lots of crying and screaming, and wow, had the dreams always been that real? Some even had scenarios of various people in his life finding out about his condition and just stood there with cold, judging eyes before leaving, though the string of degrading words never faded.

So what that sometimes he had to apply pressure to his palms to keep himself grounded? So what that he'd started carrying a scissor in his bag? Everyone had crazy habits. Some shoved kids into the lockers and some had to think of dead and wounded bodies to get through school hour. Some daydreamed of what they'd do after school or in the weekend, or where they'd go out with their special ones, he'd daydream of excuses to avoid one.

He'd thrown up after so many dates with Blaine and made up so many excuses that avoiding his boyfriend were also added to his list of must-do. Come to think of it, except for his family, he avoided everyone else. However, lately, avoiding the family seemed like a perfect idea too.

Every time he saw his father, or watched Burt doing some daily activity like watching TV or shuffling through the magazine or taking off his baseball cap to scratch his head, Kurt would feel the pang in his chest. The similarity and the repeat each ritual had throughout his life and childhood reminded Kurt furthermore how far from his expectations his life had become.

Or that sometimes he'd just wanted a hug or just some comforting words from Burt but how would someone ask for it? That's just silly. He wasn't a kid anymore. He had to be able to face his own problems without whining like a baby.

Or just yesterday, he'd got tired of degrading himself by writing words on his wrists and risked going to Finn's room. The boy not only had the single most gruesome video game Kurt ever had the displeasure to watch, it was also spiced with Finn's excited chants and lots of moving and ducking in his chair "_This isn't 3D, Finn_", or various threats Finn would make to inanimate objects, but when the demo showed the game character hanged on the game screen after losing the round, it was the last straw. His mind forgot to not remember that forbidden information and it came crashing back.

"Must charge phone… only ten percent left…don't wait up… nice game" he heard himself mumbling and went straight to his bathroom and underlined the "STUPID" on his arm several times, not stopping until scratchy lines began to hurt a bit.

He remembered the first time when the scar he'd make wouldn't fade right away and he'd panicked and began promising himself that he'd stop and went to sleep with his phone turned off and without any painkillers. And the happiness he'd felt when in the morning he'd found the scar gone, it was too much like the real happiness nothing but a memory was left of it.

But now, there was no stopping… He was not an official cutter; the blade hadn't even once pierced his skin. He could resist. He just did it for stress relief. It was weird and beyond crazy but it was safe, or at least that's what Kurt believed.

Just sometimes, safe wasn't enough… it wasn't just enough to drug himself up to the point when he couldn't feel his jaw and felt lightheaded instead…damn it, it just wasn't enough…

* * *

A/N: The next chapter is written and almost ready; I just don't have the drive to read for the last time and update it. It's just me and Kurt here and we've driven each other crazy for the past hours.

On a side note, you do realize that what Kurt is thinking and acting is beyond wrong ?


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This chapter is also from Chapter nine of Unanswered Goodbyes, and the edit is once again minimal; I'm sorry guys but I promise this would be the last of these shenanigans for a while.

Read the author's note at the bottom of the page for some news about updates from now on.

**Edited on 11/6/2013: A small part here is edited/rearranged after some heavy thinking as I didn't wish to offend anyone's beliefs. Better safe than sorry. Just for the record though, being close-minded is what the world suffers and not believing in this or that. Thank you.**

* * *

**Warning: a non/dub-con scene. It's very brief but I felt I should warn. I've put a warning before the paragraph just in case and there's a spoiler about what it is in the end notes.**

* * *

Kurt knew he was dreaming again. The clues to this were included but not limited to the fact that he couldn't feel the burden of his anxiety choking him. He was also wearing the pants that he knew for a fact wouldn't fit him anymore and had sold for a good profit online. Blaine also was there in his dream. They were in Kurt's old house, in his old bed in the basement and they were kissing. Blaine was wearing socks, _another clue that I'm dreaming_, thought Kurt to himself but smiled as he felt the lips in a very un-dreamlike way tracing his cheekbone. Hands roamed over his ribs, tickling slightly. Blaine would pull up now and then to place an innocent but firm kiss on his mouth before resuming his exploring once more.

He missed having these dreams, which embarrassingly started before they were even officially dating. Usually they were made up of gentle touches and chaste kissing. He closed his eyes and soaked up the touches that soothed him, all the jabs he received at school and hard weeks' exhaustion completely vanishing away. It was unbelievable, the feeling happiness and bliss filling him instead. So that was why he was greatly disappointed and shocked that he felt the bed squeak and Blaine's weight lifted from it. Why is Blaine leaving? It was _his_ dream after all. He opened his eyes to find out that Blaine wasn't on top of him anymore; in fact he was nowhere to be seen.

Then he heard someone sniffling. The noise was coming from other side of bed and Kurt sat up to see. His jaw fell open in shock. It was Karofsky there, wearing a Dalton pajama of all things and crying. All of a sudden Kurt was nervous. Dave noticed Kurt's stare and hiccupped, revealing the cell phone in his hands "_This_ is not helping".

Kurt felt all the horror coming back, blocking his throat. Dave continued to look at him, shaking the phone accusingly at him "It's all your fault, you know"

Kurt opened his mouth to protest but he was unable to make a sound.

* * *

**~ Warning ~**

Dave inched closer to him and repeated "This is not helping", and then softly, "I want more…"

Kurt wanted to ask him what the hell was he talking about but dream-Kurt was moving towards Dave. Kurt felt like he had no control over his body, almost like he was watching from afar. He could feel the resigned look on his own face and he felt tired, just so damn tired. He leaned over and kissed Dave's lips. He felt a dam break inside him and soon he was wordlessly screaming at himself to stop, but was instead forced to watch and feel each kiss. Each time he was opening his mouth to scream, dream-Kurt would push his head forward to meet Karofsky's eager lips.

He broke off the kiss for a moment looking frantically around, searching for a way out. That was when his eyes caught the sight of someone who should be the one he was sharing this dream with, someone who should now be looking at him with hatred, coldness and judgment.

But he didn't see any of those in Blaine's eyes. His eyes were distant, because, Kurt soon found out in absolute terror, he was dead. He was lying in a large pool of blood, his head was smashed in, his body broken and he couldn't even go there and hold him in his arms because Karofsky was lying on top of him, crushing him in a semi-embrace.

He turned his eyes at Karofsky, and Dave's eyes turned pleading "I want you, Kurt, I need you." And he was guiding Kurt's hand , and it was getting dangerously close to his …. Oh, please no.

And dream-Kurt was actually letting him.

_No, No , No, Not anymore, I want out, Get me out. _

Kurt was half-sobbing, half screaming the words and somehow he was relieved to find out, he finally broke free of the dream and woke up, sweating like a madman and whispering something over and over again. It was some time later that he realized he'd been calling out for his mother, "Mommy", all this time. The realization brought back another line of memories and flashbacks that were just too much. He kneeled on the bed, his forehead touching the mattress as actual physical pain circulated in his body. When pain became bearable enough to uncurl himself, he forced his feet to take him to the bathroom.

He knew that in his current state he would rip his veins apart without any second thought. There was still a bit of self-preservation in him to avoid doing that. So he went straight to the shower. He turned the temperature to the hottest degree that was possible and leaned his head against the wall letting the water run over him for about half an hour. Even then as the water was scorching his skin, he felt cold and shudders were running through his body. The action seemed oddly familiar to him. Only when he started drying off he remembered why. He did the exact same thing when Karofsky had kissed him in the locker room.

He popped three painkillers in his mouth and swallowed them dry, afraid that getting water in his system would make him throw up and waste the precious pills.

He was too tired to argue with himself about the consequences of his actions. He knew that his body would get used to the dosage soon enough and would stab him in the back if he continued taking pills. Already he had gone from half a pill to three to actually feel the blessed numbness.

**~ End Warning ~**

* * *

Lunch period, Hell on Earth. If McKinley was hell, which Kurt believed to be true, then cafeteria had to be the max point. Normally it smelled of the mixture of foods it was served and he could smell the odor even in the hallways since morning, which made him even more agitated.

They had pasta today, and it was driving Kurt insane. The noodles were all tangled up in each other and when he tried to separate them with his fork, more sauce smeared on it, it was a chaos. Every time he lifted his fork to eat it, he'd see all those knots in them and the mushroom smell would hit him and he'd put it down, no doubt looking like an idiot the whole time. He could actually feel Blaine's gaze on him as he stood up and muttered.

"I can't eat this shit, it's so messy."

Stupid piece of food, it didn't even land like he wanted it to. It just kind of dumped uselessly on top of other garbage, the contents still half visible. It was so frustrating.

Blaine stopped him on his way out, and reminded him that he would be coming to Blaine's house after school. _It's important_ he'd said and Kurt just nodded. After waiting frantically in front of Blaine's locker to see if Blaine was actually healthy, _and alive_, Kurt shuddered at the memory of the dream, the desire to see the boy faded. He saw, however, how Blaine's eyes lit up and his face broke into a huge grin when he saw him standing in front of his locker, but Kurt just ducked his head and left without saying nor doing anything further than a muttered "Hi".

What kind of boyfriend was he now? Dreaming of kissing another boy, neglecting Blaine for far too long and just now, he wouldn't, couldn't look at him.

Some days ago in his madness he'd accidentally revealed his phone number to Sebastian, the evil weasel, and had to face one or two texts of cocky blabbers of the boy every now and then. He immediately deleted those texts. There were nothing special, just a few snarks thrown randomly, but one look at them would question why Blaine was still with him? Perfect, warm and kind Blaine that had to force his own boyfriend to meet him after school. To talk to him. To look at him.

He was ringing Blaine's doorbell when Karofsky messaged him. He wanted to meet up this week. Kurt tried to remember when his free periods were but concentrating was so hard these days.

Blaine called out to him.

_"Come on, Kurt. You wouldn't talk to me. At least talk to Ms. Pillsbury. She'll know what to do. You know the last time I talked to her…"_

Didn't Blaine see it? Even if it was separation anxiety he couldn't get help. He was too stuck. Also Ms. Pillsbury wore the most annoying bows ever made that were not only a fashion suicide, but so crooked that Kurt just wanted to rip it off and iron it again and again.

"_Not now, I don't have time for that."_ He mumbled distractedly, typing out a text suggesting meeting up in the weekend instead.

Blaine wouldn't back off though.

"_Or your dad, or Carole. Just do something. You're scaring me, Kurt."_

_I'm scaring me too_, Kurt wanted to say but he just replied an automatic _"I'm perfectly fine." _

_Why wasn't the damn boy answering? Dave wasn't mad that he couldn't make it in the week now, was he?_

Blaine's shout made him almost drop his phone and look up, startled.

"_No, you're not. Kurt, this isn't healthy" _

_His shocked face seemed to make Blaine angrier._

"_Now he's listening. Do I have to shout all the time to get your attention?" _

Blaine paced the room, which was making Kurt's head spin, and he was still shouting.

_"All you do is type away in your phone. What do you have in there that's more important than me, huh?"_

His phone was suddenly snatched away from his hands.

_No, No, NO._

He wanted to shout. He couldn't understand the part of him that was feeling happy, almost relieved. There was absolutely nothing happy about that moment. His emotions were a jumble of mess.

"_Kurt?"_

_He's going to find out. He's going to leave me._

Cold, everything was just so cold. He could actually feel his brain freezing.

"_Kurt, honey, you alright?"_

He couldn't lose Blaine. He knew that the boy would have to leave him sooner rather than later. That maybe all this avoiding he did in the past week was just another step his subconscious made to make everything easier for Blaine. But, right now, when he was so close to actually accomplishing it, he was chickening out. _Stupid self-centered brat,_ he thought to himself disgustedly.

His words mashed into each other, making a string of words that were out, without him having any control over it.

"_I'm so sorry Blaine. I'll be better. I'll get better. Please don't leave me."_

This was so bad. It was a true disaster. There were all lies. How was he supposed to get better? If Blaine wasn't planning on leaving him up until then, he should be seriously considering it now.

But it seemed to calm Blaine down and hugged him while Kurt was battling the tears. He was too tired to cry and he was tired of crying. He didn't want to waste any more tears on himself.

Kurt tried to stay awake, he really did. He didn't want to have another nightmare, but it was just so hard to think when Blaine was tunelessly humming in his ear and rocking him like a baby. _I don't deserve his love,_ was the last thought that went through his mind before he succumbed to sleep.

* * *

A/N:The dub/non con scene is a brief Kurtofsky scene in Kurt's dream. He dreams of kissing Karofsky instead of Blaine and then Karofsky tries to get some more (description not graphical) but before anything happens he wakes up. Then he takes a shower, pops some painkillers and goes back to sleep, feeling guilty for having that dream.

A/N: Can I confess something? This chapter is by far my favorite one. Don't get me wrong, it has a horrible scene that I cringe myself while I both wrote and read it but I love that. What's wrong with me?

Also, I will be updating in a much slower pace. But I am not abandoning this. I'm improving my writing by reading some articles and I've also created an AO3 account where I slowly edit and update my previous works. It's the same name as this account : precious_passenger. so i'll be to mention real life.

On a final note, I feel that I should add this story is very hard for me to write. I have way too many flashbacks and nightmares from it. And somehow writing Kurt's pov is worse, emotionally. So I desperately need a break.


	7. Chapter 7: Maybe Tomorrow, You'd Realize

A/N: well, I spent these couple of days of strict "no working on dreams shattered", basically thinking about ways to add some plot and making this a less "angst-fest".

Also, I'm proud to announce that today I wrote the final, Final chapter, and another one-shot, too. So much for doing homework. Oh well…

* * *

When Kurt got back to his home, he thought a lot about the promise his half-crazed mind made to Blaine. He obviously needed to work on that. As much as he wanted to be left alone, he didn't want it. His emotions were so confusing lately. Like take in Karofsky, for example. He'd be dreading the moments that the boy would text him and ask for advice on how to "keep on living in this rotten, fucking world", but then he realized, when Karofsky _didn't _do that, the nervousness was much worse in comparison. The thoughts that crawled their way into head were almost brutal. And, now that he'd come face-to-face with Blaine calling him out on his behavior, which would soon lead to a breakup, he knew he couldn't take it, as much as good it will do for both of them.

It was the end of disco week, tons of dancing and more than enough ridiculous clothes. Finn had mentioned what Mr. Shuster's true intentions were in picking "Saturday Night Fever" as this week's theme, and honestly as much as it upset him that he wasn't going to get the suit, it was a great idea, Finn at least needed some guidance, but seriously, through disco? Well, at least Blaine was happy with the assignments, being the one to prepare the opening number of the week and dancing alongside Mr. Shuester and Sue.

When he head Mercedes and Santana confessed their dream careers, it hit Kurt how he'd disappointed himself in that department. If he had to pretend to be that same self he was before all this shit happened, a lot of things needed to be done. Even if he really didn't remember how it felt like, being carefree and happy, he knew what actions it took to get that result, so what if it wouldn't havethe same feeling it once held? Maybe one day, he would.

As they finished strutting around the school in white polyester suits, which were like begging to be slushied, Kurt thought sarcastically, singing about staying alive, _what a true dilemma_, Kurt's resolve strengthened and he found the perfect time to put his plans into action.

"Hey, Rachel, wait up!" he called suddenly, surprising Rachel as well as himself. He'd kept direct contact with his girls in the past month to the minimum possible, although the few texts were welcome. It made him feel guilty, like he was using them and it gave him more drive to fix that, well at least, pretend to fix, oh well,_ potato… potahtoh _.

"How's the song hunting with NYADA going?" and then a very excited and bubbly Rachel was crushing him in a tight hug. It felt like a floodgate opening. "Oh my god, Kurt. I was going to plan a Poune-vention for you soon. Does this mean we're going to have daily meetings in my house, trying to find best songs that would showcase our talents and practice at least one each day? You know, I've narrowed it down to two pages so I desperately need your opinion about it…"

"Woah, woah, Rachel, chill out! Every day? Are you what…crazy?" Kurt laughed, her excitement instantly catching up with him.

He drove to Rachel's house, which soon turned to a sleepover. Well, if you could call it a sleepover, when he was working like a slave through dozens of songs and looking into different videos of last year's NYADA nominee's performances. The information one would get in four hours internet surfing was mind-blowing.

In the end, their list was expanded to three pages for each of them, sorted alphabetically, with little numbers prioritizing their choice orders.

Kurt dug into his homework with a grimace prominent on his face. As soon as he arrived home, he collapsed into his bed and slept for ten straight hours, which was not a good way to start off the weekend with the amount of essays he had to write. He had to make Rachel swear on her bible, well, Barbra Streisand's signed biography that this crazy ritual had to limited to at least once a week, until they know exactly when they would be performing. Still, he couldn't help but hum _Evita_ while solving math. It was easier, when all he had to worry about was trying to fit in tall and over decorated walls of Dalton Academy. His phone buzzed and he was reminded, once more, one of the many reasons why.

* * *

If Mr. Shuester was planning to depress them to death with these weekly assignments, Whitney after Disco, he might success. Nothing is sadder than when your glee club teacher is trying too hard to understand you. "Whitney is just a physical representation of your pain"… Really, who the hell says that kind of stuff in real life? Kurt is more than familiar with pain, and tell you what, getting away from this loser land McKinley is NOT pain.

"Lots of changes coming up, lots of...saying good-bye. To your friends, to your significant others, to the last four years of your life." Mr. Shuester had said next, and somehow that hit Kurt the most, he'd have to say goodbye to Blaine, and that was not something he was willing to do, like, ever.

They shyly began letting each other back into their lives. Kurt tried to make more time and plan their dates more often, which would never collide with a meal so they'd have to eat out and have Blaine go all health doctor on him. Surprisingly, Blaine adapted to that silent rule, happy with all that Kurt had to offer, quick pecks before classes and cuddles in the choir room. He no longer pushed him to reveal more. But he was quite insistent, this week, about him visiting "Between the Sheets" a music store that had just opened in Lima. And that's where he met Chandler. Chandler was sweet and a huge dork, he strangely reminded Kurt of his sophomore year, all the enthusiasm and the love for clothes. He was like a cloned version of Kurt, and he could see them staying friends all through their stay in New York, which was why when Chandler asked for his phone number, he'd given it to him almost without any hesitation. What he didn't expect was the sound of a buzz almost immediately when Chandler left the store. His heartbeat sped up and he could feel its beat in his throat but when he unlocked the screen it was just an unknown message, Chandler, he later realized with some very cheesy pick-up line.

Kurt shook his head, flustered. Really, the last thing he needed was another person spamming his inbox with messages. But, soon, another text followed.

"Mom's offering to drive me to a shrink today… I'm done with that. I think I'd prefer a rope around my throat. "

Kurt read the text once, twice and third time. That's odd, he could feel anxiousness and dizziness as Dave had referred to both his suicide attempt and refusing to see a therapist, heavy, scary subjects, but it was less overwhelming, like he was the one in control.

"Whitney is amazing, but your voice would razzle dazzle the crowd, and me."

"I'm sure it would ;) "

"Hang in there, Dave, it'll be good. Maybe therapy would do some good though…hmm?"

A bing sounded on his phone, Kurt waited before the other bing and he unlocked his screen.

"the word therapist should really be changed to the rapist… Because that's what they'll do to you, they'll rape your mind."

"are you questioning my judgment. You send me any song you ever sung and I swear I'm going to burst from joy."

Kurt smiled, feeling strangely….relaxed.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Something really horrible happened and the plus side of it is I'm in the mood to continue this story. Life sucks right now. Ok, rant over. Enjoy the new chapter. I tried to distinguish the texts by putting it in italics.

* * *

Whitney week was in full effect. Santana and Britney preformed their duet to start off the week and all of the glee club participated in the dance. Kurt was leaning by his locker's door, texting, when he felt someone approaching him. He looked up and saw Rachel skipping to his locker. After their sleepover, Rachel seemed to be glued to his side all the time and she shared anything remotely related to singing and NYADA. In the middle of her rant, though, she noticed his cell phone and the sheepish look on his face and brightened up more, which should be impossible, but not for Rachel Berry.

"Oh, I know what that is." She exclaimed happily, tickling his side slightly, "Finn sends me cutsie text messages all the time. Usually, they're puns about my boobs, but I still appreciate the effort."

Huh, so that's why Finn sometimes looks so lost in his own world when he's on his phone. Kurt has to admit, as much unsettling it is to watch Finn's thoughtful look, because that hardly ever happens and _ewww, boobs, _it seems kind of caring and sweet in a roundabout way.

"It's not from Blaine," he whispers, suddenly very interested in dents in his locker.

Rachel squeals in his ear, "th-then who is it?"

_Ok, that's going too far, Rachel has got the wrong idea_, Kurt thought, so he sets quickly for some damage control, "He's just a guy. I met him at Between the Sheets. His name is Chandler. He's-he's nice."

"And what did Mr. Between the Sheets say then?" Rachel asks mischievously, like, like, this is some hot piece of gossip. Kurt blushes at her implication.

"Nothing…We just joke around. It's sweet," he tries so reassure her but it's not working, so he shows some of the messages, because really, it doesn't mean anything. It's not like he has feelings for Chandler or anything.

But when he heard Rachel's shocked gasp and mile a minute questions which soon turns to some sort of inquisition, he has to admit it's not as innocent as it seems. But, Blaine had done so himself, with Sebastian of all people, and he said it didn't mean anything, so this shouldn't either.

"Would you show Blaine those text messages?" Rachel asks.

"Of course not," was the immediate response. "Oh, well, then I guess it's not that innocent," Rachel said and took off.

A single vibrate from his phone alerted him of another text, but Kurt ignored it purposefully. He'd felt so good in the past days so really, there was no need to complicate things further. He would have to detach himself from Chandler. That was the new plan, soon after Blaine approached his locker.

"You're in a cheerful mood today. Did you find a song?"

_This is the last text I'll look_, Kurt thought as he glanced at the phone, silly text asking for tips on what to wear and smiled at his phone, before getting his books for the next period and closing the locker.

"Oh, yeah. I'm planning to sing _"So Emotional"_, and dedicate it to my amazing boyfriend, so all glee girls would die of jealousy."

Specially Rachel, because, hello? He's not cheating and this is all innocent and he could stop it whenever he wanted.

"And why would they die?"

Blaine's question caught him off guard and he stared at him in horror. Who's going to die, what did he say? It was like his mind just went blank.

"You just said it now. How all glee girls would die after hearing your song…?"

Focus, Kurt, he chanted to himself, forcing his frown to smoothen and his expression turn happy.

"Because I get so emotional baby, every time I think of you…" he sang and threw his arms around Blaine so the choking feeling would dissipate.

The next day both Joe and Quinn and later, Santana and Rachel preformed and Kurt more or less stuck to his decision of not looking at his phone, at least during the performances. But then after practice, when he was heading toward his car, among the tons of texts Chandler sent him was a single text that caused a shudder go through his body.

_"Kurt?"_

_This doesn't mean anything, you're over reacting_, Kurt snapped at his thoughts that were spinning out of control. _This is bad, this is really really bad._

_"Good afternoon, how are you? I was in glee practice and didn't see your text until now. What's up?"_

He replied and hurried to get home faster. He waited until he was secure in his room to open the arrived text.

_"Ms. White happened."_

He couldn't remember anything about Ms. White, just that she was a teacher in Dave's school. Why was his brain choosing this moment to block out the details? He sent a text nevertheless.

_"What are you doing now?"_

He tried to change his clothes when waiting for Karofsky's reply, but the reply came too soon to allow that.

_"Lying on my bed, what am I supposed to do?"_

Slowly, memories poured in. Ms. White was one of the teachers who was slightly homophobic and religious and thought suicide was the biggest sin, she'd try to talk to David often.

_"Can I do something? Do you want me to call? Do you want to meet in Lima Bean or something?"_

Breadstix was off limits after that night.

_"I don't think I can talk about it now. How are you?"_

Awful, choking, I can barely hold the phone in my hands right now.

_"I'm fine. How are you considering…?"_

_"terrible…"_

A shiver went down his hands and he felt his stomach drop to ground.

_"Is there anyone else you could talk to? How about your councilor or the principal?"_

_"If I could talk to somebody, I'd talk to you. But I can't."_

A month ago this message would make Kurt's heart fill with pride and a sense of accomplishment, but, right now there was just dread and the feeling of responsibility on his shoulders.

_"That's totally understandable. I'm here, If you ever want a distraction or a serious talk. Please take care of yourself."_

_"Thanks for being here, Kurt. I don't know why I sent the text when I knew I couldn't talk."_

Kurt could feel a deep ache in his heart.

_"That's fine. Do what you need to do."_

_"Take care."_

_"You too." _

Kurt stared at the patterns in his bed; then, he blindly attached and sent a link of Lady Gaga's performance of "Born this way" and after the delivery response threw the phone on the bed.

He could feel bile in his throat, but that's ridiculous, he hadn't eaten anything all day. He could feel the taste of mouthwash and toothpaste as he threw up a few seconds later. He could feel his veins were on fire. He traced them subconsciously with his finger.

He got up to his laptop and selected the first movie that captured his attention, "_Mary Poppins_". Each time the children would laugh or sing, he'd make strange gasping sounds that terrified him even more, he looked ready to cry but no tears would come. His phone vibrated for a few more times but he ignored it, hugging his pillow tighter to his chest. After about half an hour of this ordeal, there was a knock on his door, startling him. Burt entered his room, "hey buddy, Blaine is on the phone, he said you're not answering yours, something about when to visit for a movie marathon?"

Burt took in the scene, Kurt's phone and the puffy eyed owner on the bed, "Kurt, are you alright?"

Kurt nodded two, three times, dabbing at his eyes, willing them to stop burning, "I'm fine, dad. Just tired. I'll be there in a minute."

He waited until his father left the room to pick up his phone. Blaine was on hold downstairs. He shuffled through his texts to find a now familiar number, _Chandler_.

_"So, New York, you say? Can you imagine getting out of here and going to NEW YORK?"_

* * *

A/N: I desperately need a pick-me-up right now. Also, I don't know how I'm doing with this fic, I get like no responses or anything so I don't know how people like with the direction this story is going, or even if they're interested in more, I'm going to continue but one of the reasons for the reduced pace of updating is sadly the lack of any outside opinion. If something is incomprehensible please mention it in a review or PM me. It would mean a lot.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So I've been listening to Demi Lovato's newest album the whole day. I was looking for when glee would come back from hiatus and one thing led to another and one hour later I was reading Demi's biography and all that. I don't know what to say, really. Just for anyone out there who needs it: _Stay Strong._

* * *

Cut the half of the half-toast in half. Pour some coffee; make sure to put extra sugar or milk. Pick up the homework or some magazines and try to eat without thinking you're about to eat. Blaine would be arriving in about half an hour and Kurt can't make a fainting fool of himself. His appetite is non-existent and he feels like chewing on a piece of cardboard but he's not going to dwell on that, he really really isn't trying to think about food, the smell or anything. This is toast, the blandest food in universe. Bite, chew, swallow and sip the coffee. Damn, this feels like getting stuck in elementary school.

When Blaine arrives there's only half of the toast left, so Kurt could call that a progress. They settle quietly on his bed, watching the movie, _Being Bobby Brown_. Kurt could hardly focus, he was becoming sleepy and the steady puffs of warm air Blaine was breathing to the back of his neck was not helping, so his mind began to wander, reminding himself that he was being a bad host and boyfriend for not feeding Blaine, he could feel the slight rumble of Blaine's stomach as well as hear the growling when the sounds of the television go quiet. It's hard to remember that not anybody has a hating relationship with food.

So, he fought the comfortable heat and drowsiness telling him not to get up and walked into kitchen, picking up some snacks that had survived Finn and refilled his usual bottle of salt and sugary water. Just in case. Kurt grabbed Finn's hoodies from the table, intending to put it on the chair, but after being cooped up under two layers of blankets, it felt kind of chilly so fashion statements forgotten he put it on and climbed the stairs back up.

The sight he met on his door made him almost drop the tray, an odd hissing sound escaped from his mouth. "What's this?" Blaine asked, almost innocently and it made everything freeze up. Blaine was clutching his phone in one hand and the other was going through his hair.

_Fuck, he knows._ He'd read the texts between Dave and him and was going to accuse him … it wasn't even his story to tell so should he lie and … would he leave him now that he's came so far from the mess he was in less than a week?... would he sing a song and accuse him of being a cheater or he'd begin shouting now?

Kurt could feel himself slipping into numbness and fought hard against it, "Give me my phone," he more or less begged. He didn't want Blaine to leave or shout, he was a terrible boyfriend, he should've known that the coming clean part would arrive soon; he should've kept his distance with Dave and … "Is this why you've been acting strange?" Blaine stepped closer and Kurt flinched.

Yes, but there was no choice. I had to help him…

"I said give me my phone," he tried again but more or less surrendered for the inevitable break up talk about to be unleashed.

"Who's Chandler, Kurt?"

It seemed like everything was much easier to handle now, Chandler wasn't even a bleep in the problem radar. If that's his reaction to finding out about Chandler what would be Blaine's reaction to Dave? The guy that he'd kissed several times in his dream… However unpleasant, the thought sealed in his head, Blaine could never find out about Karofsky, not ever.

"Why are you going through my phone?" was his reply and an honest question, why would Blaine ruin their moment after everything Kurt did to piece everything back together? His question seemed to anger Blaine more and he nearly spat the words, "I'm not going through your phone. It's just that it keeps buzzing. Because Chandler won't stop texting you."

Kurt tried to calm him down, because really, texting Chandler was …. innocent, "please, just give me my phone. There's no need to get upset."

It seemed that it only made Blaine angrier, "no need to get upset? Are you listening to yourself? This is cheating, Kurt."

The same old speech he'd had not long ago with Rachel, but now he couldn't face his angry boyfriend, couldn't count down his reasons even though he was beginning to voice some of them and quickly fell silent, he really didn't want to be shouted at and everything was just tiring. He felt stuck. Texting Chandler was one of the few things that helped him stay calm and not panic over the week and for Blaine to dwell on that, however right it might be made the hurting worse.

"This is what texting is supposed to be like," he whispered, talking to himself mostly but then Blaine's sharp intake of breath made him look up to meet with so much hurt in Blaine's eyes that broke his heart even more. Blaine forced the next words with the same amount of hurt in his eyes, "you like this guy?"

Of course not but when Kurt tried to reassure him, Blaine just wouldn't accept.

"Blaine, no, just forget about it. It's nothing," he offered as his last resort. He couldn't reveal anything without pointing to the main problem and the real reason why this happened and maybe it was too late and too absurd to hope to be forgiven.

He was soon proved right.

"It's not nothing, Kurt. You really think that this is nothing? God, I can't talk to you. I feel like I've taken crazy pills. I'm gonna go now."

Kurt was pretty sure this is what going into a shock would feel like; it felt like a slap, the sudden energy going out of the body, feelings freezing and focusing on a single thought of _"Blaine's broken up with me". _

Soon, other thoughts would come, damn the survival instinct, thoughts offering him comfort and reassuring him that it's not the end of the world and then a reality check that it was bound to have happened soon. He tried to move but all he could manage was a few steps before slumping against the bed, on the floor.

His hand blindly searched under the mattress until he found the hidden blade. Tonight he didn't deserve to be brought comfort, this was for punishment. He experimented with a few horizontal slashes for a couple of minutes and harshly wrote "loser" when the pain dulled. He shouldn't be thinking of ending it right now, it was cliché and pathetic but Blaine hated him and nothing made sense so anything could happen tonight, stuck on reprimanding all that he's done. Kurt Hummel was a failure.

"Kurt?" a soft voice invaded his thought and for a moment he thought he'd finally crossed the line and gone crazy, imagining things but then his head snapped up and was met by Blaine's intense and worried gaze. His mind was working so slowly and he glanced down at his hands to assess the situation he was in and how to defend, what to say but Blaine quickly beat him to it, "what are you doing?"

His voice was all innocent and scared like a child and Kurt could feel deep shudders in his body coming to surface and _why is Blaine here?_ Screaming in his mind. At some point he couldn't take anymore.

"I'm doing laundry, that's what I'm doing."

He hated himself he really did, he could see Blaine flinch as he started to laugh, but he really couldn't stop. He really wanted to tell everything, to reassure that he's not doing _that_ but his mind was mocking him, his scratched arms were mocking him.

Blaine was on his eye level, kneeling in front of Kurt and he asked once more, kinder than Kurt deserved really, "what are you doing, Kurt?"

And maybe that's what broke the spell, the gentle sound of Blaine trying to understand him, even after specifically telling that he wanted nothing to do with Kurt. _What was he doing? _Kurt didn't know, all was blurry in his head. His sight was blurring too, so he tried to reach for his bottle and took a few careful sips when Blaine handed it to him.

"I can't keep anything else down," he informed upon Blaine's questioning gaze.

And then, as if universe was answering _Could my life get any worse right now? _a buzz sounded in his phone. Kurt closed his eyes, Blaine was going to get mad and leave him now. But then he felt a gentle hand putting the phone back in his hand and he opened his eyes questioningly to find Blaine smiling sadly and offering him his phone. He unlocked and looked at the first text.

"I'm thinking about it… -Dave"

This has to be the worst day of my life, was the last thought on Kurt's mind when everything shut down and became black.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Isn't this nice? An extra early update?

For some of the finer details in this chapter, visiting chapter four of Unanswered Goodbyes is recommended. I didn't want to bore the people who had previously read the story and repeat the whole dialogue and flashbacks, so I just stuck to the key scenes and my favorite parts. There are some shenanigans of copying parts of that chapter into this one, so be warned.

* * *

Next time Kurt opened his eyes, he recognized his own phone in Blaine's hand and stared at his frowning face and it all came back. He remembered all that happened. _Blaine's gone from my life_. The familiar tightening in his throat informing him he was about to throw up. He ran to the bathroom, slamming the door, and barely had time to reach the toilet before he heaved. He closed his eyes. Never again, his mind echoed surely. A sentiment shared by many on the similar position he was, but certainly not for the same reasons.

But then there were cool, comforting hands on his neck and rubbing on his back and a tender voice, shushing. "Go away," he told Blaine weakly. He didn't have to see him like that, it made Kurt feel guilty and self-conscious and really, that was saying something, considering all the emotion roller coaster he'd been through that day and well, he had been puking his guts out.

But Blaine was touching the hand that grabbed the toilet seat tightly with contrasting softness and pushed the hair out of his face and sensing his presence calmed down everything in a record time. He washed out his mouth and flushed the toilet and couldn't help but to lean heavily on Blaine, who more or less carried him to his bed. His body was cold but his hands were clammy and he shuddered appreciatively at the warmth the blankets provided and the slight relief the cold bottle brought to his pulsating head as the inevitable headache forming up.

A few moments passed, and then he heard Blaine cautious "Better?"

He replied quietly, "yeah, it's all right now," and really it took everything he had not to cry. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Embarrassed wasn't even beginning to cover how he felt, but Blaine brushed it off. Kurt could feel a breakdown bubbling in his chest and idly wondered if he could last and refuse to become a sobbing mess while Blaine was here.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Kurt sighed, thinking it through and shook his head, _Here goes nothing_. "I guess it's only fair, for you, to know."

And then he started from the beginning, drawing comfort from the fact that Blaine hadn't left the room, screaming and shouting obscenities, but instead looking sadder at each passing minute.

Blaine hadn't stopped his monologue, not even once, only small noises and deciphering his body language showed that he was actively listening and Kurt needed to know, needed to analyze. But then, when talking started to get heavier, it was as if he couldn't bring himself to care. He couldn't care about how Blaine's jaw clenched and his body tensed as he recalled the jocks calling to him how he should be the one dying, or as they eloquently put _"you're up next"_, right after Karofsky's attempt. It felt numbing, almost like reading from his notebook, or checking off a checklist, as Kurt recalled the events to his wide eyed _boy….friend_. Then he began recounting the events after visiting Karofsky and he could feel the boy getting restless. And then his memory started messing with him and he'd have to imagine and guess at some points and finally looking around helplessly finished his speech. He felt lighter after sharing all this with Blaine, but really, what difference did it make?

"What about Chandler?" Blaine asked him and Kurt laughed bitterly, "gosh, he was the dorkiest dork I've ever seen. I met him at the music store and then he began complimenting me and when he asked for my number I gave it to him." He removed his hand from Blaine's to silence the upcoming question, "I know. It was a stupid thing to do. But then, I had something to laugh, and there was a possibility each time my phone buzzed that it was just Chandler, goofing away, not Dave talking how much he wanted to die and how unbearable it was for him," his voice wavered in the end and he looked up to the ceiling, "and it just, it felt so good to let it go."

Blaine began drawing soothing circles on the back of his hand and hummed thoughtfully, "You should rest, Kurt. You had an exhausting day. Sleep, I'll wake you up in a couple of hours."

It was all the invitation his body needed before shutting down, resurfaced only by a couple of nightmares and memories running wildly in his dreams. But it was by far the most soothing nap he'd gotten in a long time and it felt even better as he felt a soft pressure on his neck and a warm weight humming beside him.

* * *

Kurt didn't know how long he had slept, so he had no idea if it was early in the morning or late at night. He felt strangely comfortable. Then he decided to get up and a fresh wave of nausea hit him. What was he thinking? Eating cafeteria food? They were the worst. He felt like throwing up before, during and after eating it. In fact he just felt like sticking his finger down his throat and make himself throw up. But he was tired of throwing up and wouldn't consider initiating it himself. It made him feel more disgusting.

Oh, he remembered now. It wasn't cafeteria food; it was that damned toast that took forever to eat. Well all his plans to stay normal had clearly backfired and the all attempts were currently flushed down in the toilet.

He rolled to his side. He knew from experience that he should just curl into himself and wait for sleep, or more likely, dawn. And then he came face to face with a very soft, breathing blanket.

"Gaah!" came Blaine's voice. _What is Blaine doing here? _Kurt wondered to himself. He didn't have to think for long before he realized Blaine was talking to him. "Umm, Kurt? A little help would be nice."

Kurt turned on the lamp. Apparently he'd startled the boy so much that he fell right off the bed but his legs were tangled between blankets, not letting him fall completely, so he was just hanging backwards. It was the funniest thing, Blaine's helpless face hanging upside down, and yes, the silly boy did try to wave at him that caused him to sway dangerously, but Kurt couldn't laugh. What if he'd fallen face first and cracked his head. Or got a concussion? How would Kurt drive him to the hospital and what would have happened if they wouldn't get there on time? And there would be blood, So much blood. He already felt dizzy.

"Kurt? It's not that elaborate. Just pull me up please." Blaine said it loudly but casually. Like he fell off the bed on a daily basis and Kurt immediately knew he did it to keep him calm and was extremely grateful.

"Up you go!" Kurt finally made his body move and got Blaine up.

Blaine stretched and ran his hand through his hair once. Then immediately cheered up and pecked Kurt lightly.

"Well, that's an effective waking up method. Don't let my mom ever find out about it."

Kurt froze and was immediately overwhelmed by the loving and once casual gesture. He couldn't cry now. His mind was rousing and reminding details of the past couple of hours. That's when he remembered the text.

"I'm going to step out for a moment, I have to call Dave," he informed Blaine.

"What do you say that we go visit him tomorrow?" Blaine asked, not unkindly. _And he said __**we**_. Did that meant that he'd also come with Kurt, because quite honestly, facing Dave was not something he'd ever liked to do alone. But he couldn't fight the polite side of him reminding that Blaine didn't owe him anything.

"Well, I have to check with him. He had a quiz tomorrow so he wouldn't be able to come until…"

"It's already too late." Blaine smiled lightly at him. Kurt froze.

_Too late? Now wait a minute, visit him where? As in Morgue? His Grave? How long had he slept? What? How?_

"God, Kurt. Stop it, you're a mess. Calm down." Blaine shook his shoulders, bringing out of his thoughts, "I meant to say that he'd already agreed. Look for yourself. " his phone was thrust in his line of vision and Kurt risked a glance.

_"Can you meet me tomorrow in Lima Bean? -Kurt"_

_"Ok -Dave"_

As if putting two and two together for a child, Blaine explained slowly, never faltering his gaze from Kurt's.

"We're ditching school tomorrow to go talk to Karo…Dave. We're going to fix everything, Kurt. I promise you, you're not alone. You won't ever feel this way again."

Kurt looked down on Blaine hugging him lightly. Many emotions were running in his head, fighting to take over others. He couldn't decide which was going to resurface and tried to wipe his face clean of any of them, in case Blaine looked up. Sadness at the situation, fear of what would happen tomorrow, hurt and confusion but surprisingly anger. How could Blaine do that?

"What the hell were you thinking?" yep, definitely anger won the battle. After sharing only bits and pieces of what happened, why did Blaine feel confident enough to text the boy, not knowing the real extent of damage, one wrong text and he could…

"You went through my phone and sent a message with my name on it? Give me that."

Time to do some damage control. He began typing quickly.

"You safe? - Kurt"

He paced the floor frantically, worry eating him alive. "Why hasn't it delivered yet?" he cried helplessly and yelped when his phone vibrated in his hands to show not only the deliver report but also a single "Yes". Phew.

Blaine's eyes shined with a dangerous glint and he pulled Kurt back to himself.

"Don't you realize what he's doing to you? You can't go on like this. It's really killing you and it's killing me to see you like this."

Rationally, Kurt knew all that. He also knew the _"can't go on like this"_ part. But…

"I can't help it," was all he managed to offer weakly as a failed attempt of excuse.

"I know. Just relax, ok? How about some musicals and cuddling, huh? That always makes everything better," he offered.

"Moulin Rouge?" he remembered the last time Blaine had stayed over for watching movies and he'd wanted to watch that movie. He also remembered how that turned out. His nose scrunched up but he had to endure this, because today Blaine had put up with so much more than he should have.

Blaine looks at him thoughtfully. "How about Mamma Mia instead?"

Funny Greek storyline, familiar and nostalgic Abba soundtracks… Kurt wasn't going to refuse.

* * *

"What are _we_ going to do tomorrow?" Kurt asks in a joking tone, which can't help but notice that has some note of fear to it, and he knows Blaine could, too. Because he really did feel scared. Every encounter with Dave had left him scared. Add Blaine to the equation and he was terrified.

The movie ended a while ago. It was nearly dawn. There was still an hour or two left until it was acceptable to wake up the rest of the household.

"Well, I talked to Sebastian while you were asleep," Kurt looked away and felt tears sting his eyes. _Well, _that_ took you long enough._

"He's been volunteering, for several years actually, for a teen recreational program in Ohio," Blaine explained and Kurt did a double take.

"The program is basically a support group. Therapy and several activities are included, but most importantly, you'll have mentors and different contact persons in case something went wrong. It seems like the best option for now." Blaine laughed nervously. "I'm sure Sebastian can persuade him to at least pay a visit. I know it wouldn't solve anything for now, but at least you wouldn't worry about him, right?"

Kurt could only nod once.

"So I just thought you might want to see him, talk to him. I don't know it seemed like the best I could think of, but if you don't want to do, I'm sure me and Sebastian could go, or I could stay and …"

"Thank you," Kurt whispered, and settling quietly against Blaine, feeling the tightness in his chest finally coming loose.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: My inner discussion for this chapter was as followed:

_-Come on, dude! Stop updating! Study! _

_+ But I feel terrible. It's the perfect mood to continue this fic!_

_- …_

Oh no, no, don't leave. I'm harmless, mostly.

* * *

Kurt woke up from his short nap, realizing that night was the most sleep he'd had in a week. But still, he felt tired. As if a day of normal sleeping reminded him how much sleep he'd missed. He looked up the clock then checked his phone, _"I'll be there in an hour – Dave"_, which was sent about fifteen minutes ago and jumped off the bed. He realized in the process he'd woken Blaine and the boy was looking around dazedly. Neither of them were really much of a morning person and were generally unsociable and downright zombies even, before the first cup of coffee. Kurt personally thought talking in the first hour after waking up was an unnecessary way of communication and a grumble was all he could manage.

They took turns in the bathroom, changing clothes. Blaine had a couple of spare shirts and pants as well as an emergency hair gel bottle in one of Kurt's drawers for this kind of last-minute sleepovers. While Blaine was changing, Kurt took off his books from his bag, his back to Blaine to give him some privacy, leaving his slushie survival kit and a random essay that only needed proof-reading. He needed something to distract himself in case David decided to show up late.

"Are you going to take your school bag with you?" Blaine's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah. I mean, I really can't imagine going anywhere without being prepared for emergencies," he tried to joke, "I mean what if the café didn't have clean napkins, or the barista tripped and poured the coffee all over your pants. I really can't go out of there looking like I'd wet myself and then…"

"Ok, I get it." Blaine raised his arms in surrender, then eyed the bag with a strange expression, "Umm, I still need some time for gelling the hair. You go ahead; I'll be down in a sec."

"Ok, but be quick. If we don't leave in ten minutes we're going to be late," Kurt said and made a move to go grab his bag but Blaine almost leaped forward.

"No, I'll…I'll bring your bag down for you."

Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine's antics.

"Fine. You really need coffee, Blaine. You're weird in the morning."

"Tell me about it," Blaine sighed and turned to the mirror, already putting the goop of gel and scowling at his hair, willing the curls to behave.

* * *

They actually arrived at the Lima Bean with ten minutes to spare. Kurt scanned the tables. It was a school day, so it was eerily quiet and beside the occasional middle aged couples who would enter to get their caffeine fix, and talked, no other type of customers had arrived yet. He found the most secluded place and sat down. Blaine was already paying for the coffees and approaching the table with a charming smile. Kurt felt his breath hitch up in his throat. That was, until Blaine put the cup in front of him.

"Where's my coffee, Blaine?" The liquid in the cup was not the black, warm and familiar smelling he would normally get.

"You're not getting any coffee." Blaine's smile didn't falter even for a second as he continued, "Coffee is bad for your stomach. I got you some tea."

"But I don't want tea." Teas reminded him of the massive amount he used to drink as a child in the tea parties he hosted and times he got sick. But he was fine now. He just wanted to wake up properly.

"Nonsense. Now tell me, are you sure you don't want anything to eat? Cookies, candy, cheesecake? You didn't have any breakfast."

Kurt rolled his eyes. Blaine was awfully cheerful so early in the morning, and he was going to drink his coffee whereas Kurt was stuck with this bland, lukewarm _drink._

"Thanks, but I'm fine with my very strong and delicious tea that would definitely help me stay awake."

He secretly plotted ways for switching the drinks.

"And I told you, I don't want to throw up in the middle of a cafeteria, which would be in the bag if I eat anything solid."

Yep, it was a hundred percent proved theory.

"You sure? They have butterscotch candies too. I know those are your favorite."

_Oh, for the love of…_Did Blaine really have to bring that up? Kurt's eyes anxiously scanned around. The jock hadn't arrived yet.

"They're not, Blaine. I don't like candies. Just sit the hell down." Kurt snapped.

Blaine sat down, grumbling adorably to himself.

"No need to be so dramatic. Tea is very delicious."

A mischievous glint flashed in Blaine's eyes and he moved closer in his seat, "however, if you want to wake up properly we could have a repeat of last night's adventures."

Kurt blushed at that. It was so _Blaine_ to say stuff like that with people in earshot.

"Stop joking about it. You could've hit the floor and cracked your head open."

The last word was hanging in the end, his mouth a perfect O, when the jingling of the door revealed Karofsky, looking around. Kurt sat there, frozen.

It was almost a year since the bullying stopped, well, since _Dave's_ bullying stopped and his back would still pang with phantom shoves, his face tingled remembering the icy torture he'd endured sometimes more than twice a day.

But now, one look at the boy and the almost healed bruises around his neck, and the hate, the fear even was gone. However the pain had intensified significantly. The pain of another human being suffering from the same situation he had faced. The same situation he was facing still.

Blaine's gelled head, _Damn, even his gel smells like cinnamon coffee_, Kurt thought randomly, came into view. He stood in a protective stance in front of him, blocking Dave from his view. He almost missed the anger clouding both of the boys' eyes but after sending a mix of pleading and furious glances at them, they managed to settle down peacefully.

He could practically feel Blaine's fake calm and controlled voice as he greeted the boy, keeping his arm protectively around Kurt's chair. The gesture was sweet albeit ridiculous.

But when Karofsky turned to look at him with hate-filled eyes, Kurt really began to lose it. And when he accused him on telling on him, well, he didn't exactly have a choice now, did he?

Gathering Dave and Blaine in one room was a bad idea, Kurt found out several minutes later. He should've done it alone. He would've told him about the program. Dave wouldn't be this guarded and would be the sweet and scared boy he'd been beginning to know.

Their voices were pretty much raised by now, and several customers were stealing glances now and then. Lack of sleep, not enough food and too many thoughts crowded in his head and Kurt couldn't even concentrate on his own words… He needed some focus.

"Maybe I should be the one leaving," came out of his mouth almost before realizing he'd said it. Shocked silence fell upon the table and Kurt sprinted toward the bathroom, feeling tears sliding down.

He locked the door and splashed his face with water. Then, when he was searching his bag for some small towels he always packs, the ones in the bathroom were too rough and would damage his skin, he noticed something odd. His English paper was on the top of the bag and was a bit creased, though he could swear he'd put it between his book to avoid such mishappening. Upon closer inspection, he also noted his pencil case was half open, a few pencils lying on the bottom of the bag, his nail file that he carried around in a smaller bag was nowhere to be found and from his first aid kit, a must have if you're a popular target in McKinley, the scissor was gone.

A few blank stares and then it all made sense. _Sharp Objects. Blaine._

Kurt was speechless. He didn't know what to feel. Sadness, self-hatred, knowing that Blaine thought he was that weak but also knowing that he probably has a point to overreact like that. But rejoice or relief in knowing that someone's looking out for him? No, he could even feel anger overflow and numb other feelings. But no, he certainly didn't feel any relief that his friend was worried… about him.

One more look at the paper and he allowed himself a five minute break from reality.

* * *

Yeah, he'd read and corrected his essay in the bathroom. But now, he felt much better. He'd sorted out his own problems and thoughts. Well at least, he listened to his mind rant and then postponed thinking about it.

He exited the bathroom, feeling two pairs of eyes analyzing him. The situation over their table was so much calmer than he'd expected. He was actually quite shocked at the fact that Dave broke the silence, his voice thick with emotion, "Kurt I…I really want to thank you. For everything. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Kurt quickly gathered that Blaine had finally got to him; one look at the boy confirmed it.

"What are you going to do now?" He asked curiously. Would he really accept to participate? … For his own good?

"I guess you're right. I can't keep staying this way. It's not doing any good for anyone."

He stared at the jock. The boy with as much barriers to rival his own. The boy with his own set of problems. He was going to get real help. A shuddering breath escaped Kurt's throat.

"You ready to go?" a bored voice asked. _Sebastian._ He hadn't noticed him enter the coffee house.

And then he almost ruined all the hard work by the farewell handshake with Dave, jumping up scared. Thankfully Sebastian filled the uncomfortable silent efficiently.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat but the clock's ticking. Let's go. Blaine, you know where to find me when you realized you want to be with a real boy."

Kurt couldn't tell how much that hurt. The pain was almost unreal. He could only stand there, feeling the smile stretch across his face. His minded didn't fail to remind him once again, what he'd lost and how he didn't deserve him in the first place.

When the door closed, Blaine turned to look at him. But Kurt couldn't look back.

"Why didn't you say something?" Blaine asked.

_What could I say?_

"Well I officially lost that right to defend my title as a boyfriend yesterday," he managed to choke bitterly.

Blaine stared at him strangely, like he'd started saying that he couldn't wear hair gel anymore.

"Kurt, what the hell are you talking about?"

Was Blaine enjoying this? Did he want him to put it in words, make it official?

"You were going to leave me yesterday. You said it yourself…"

Blaine interrupted him.

"But that was before I knew what was going on. And I said we'd talk. We didn't break up."

_What the actual…? Could this mean…? No, it couldn't. It really couldn't._

"I cheated on you. It's a deal breaker."

"No, you didn't."

_Don't let me hope again._

"I did."

Blaine threw his hands up. "So I forgive you."

It really was dawning on him that Blaine really didn't thought he'd broken up with him. But this wasn't fair. This didn't justify the neglect, the hurt he'd put through Blaine. He wasn't going to come out of this whole ordeal unscathed. It really was best to distance himself and deal with this all alone. He had to make Blaine understand it.

"Blaine, be serious. You don't have to deal with this mess. You have to find a way out of all this; it makes sense to leave now. Please don't take pity on me or feel guilty. Just go. You've helped more than I dared to ask."

"No." Blaine shook his head.

"Stop acting like a child, Blaine. I'm…"

But then he felt lips on his own, silencing his startled gasp, taking his panic of "we're kissing in the middle of the coffee shop filled with customers", leaving him breathless. It felt like forever since he'd really felt this intimacy. The scattered thoughts in his head were nowhere to be found and his mind and body buzzed with bliss.

"You said you'd never say goodbye to me, remember?" Blaine whispered.

And what could he really say to that? He rested his head across Blaine's shoulder, inhaling the same cinnamon coffee scent he'd hated not an hour ago, feeling…calm.

"I'm here, Kurt. I'm not going anywhere."

He wanted to stay right there forever. Or at least, as long as his bladder took to explode or his arm to fall asleep.

_Oh well._

* * *

A/N: I'm listening to Chers' Greatest Hits album right now. It's amazing.

Good news! I have two pre-written chapters and currently working on the third. This doesn't mean quicker updates, but I hope I can promise better quality.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Starting from almost the middle of this chapter, the events are new and haven't been mentioned on the previous series. Yay! I'm so excited to finally start writing new ideas.

* * *

They exited the café shortly after Sebastian and Dave left. Kurt was glad that he and Blaine had sorted it all out. Though the doubts still swam in his head and the nagging feeling still remained. So he couldn't help but be a little bit annoyed as they got into the car and discarded any attempts at Blaine tried to make for chatting or small talk. Blaine had more or less ordered him to sit in the passenger seat, like he had when they were driving to Lima Bean. He slammed the car shut in return, and yes, it did make him feel like a sulking five year old, but Blaine was treating him like a baby bird.

His annoyance increased when Blaine immediately followed him inside the house and when he headed to the bathroom his eyes went wide as saucers, brows creased, his expression wary.

The breaking point was when he entered the living room again, only to find Blaine half crouching, worriedly studying him. It just was too much. He didn't want to have Blaine just so he could fret over him and… He didn't want to become Blaine's Karofsky. He'd rather die than let it happen.

"Fuck, Blaine, stop following me around. You didn't even let me drive my own damn car, and I know you already went through my bag and stole my nail file. I'm not going to slit my wrists open whenever you're not by my side."

"Sorry!" he added quickly when his brain restarted.

Blaine took Kurt's hand softly in his own, stroking his sleeves, sending a small turmoil of goose bumps up his spine.

"You left me no choice, Kurt. After a month of not telling me anything I can't handle not knowing. I had to know what exactly I was dealing with, _we_ were dealing with." He swallowed heavily and ducked his head.

"I'm not proud about what I did, but I can't take risks when it comes to you. So I'm very sorry for invading your privacy but I want you to be safe, even if you'd hate me."

"I could never hate you." How could he hate this kind, beautiful boy?

Kurt shook his head, his tone softer, "but how can I trust myself if you won't trust me?"

That was his main concern for now, that when Blaine tried to control his every move, as much as it would be appreciated and relieving, he'd really slip further into the self-destructing path he more or less avoided. But, right now, he was too tired to think. His mind was foggy and snapping at Blaine proved how worn out he really was.

He kissed Blaine softly before he could argue more and held him softly. Today couldn't be Blaine's favorite day either. "Enough talking, okay? My head's not really here. I would just be heading to bed. You should go home and sleep too. I know you didn't get any last night. We'll talk tomorrow."

With a quick nod from Blaine, he went straight to bed, not even changing his clothes and tried to relax a bit.

* * *

Kurt had been slipping in and out of consciousness for a few minutes now, resisting the urge to get up, when he felt a weight climbing up in the bed. He momentarily tensed when he felt someone kissing him but then relaxed when his body caught up with who it was. Like anyone else would suddenly climb up his bed and kiss him, his mind scoffed at him.

He opened his eyes slowly, enjoying this version of wake up alarm, his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of the boy so close to him and Blaine smiled tenderly.

"I'm so proud of you."

He didn't feel special or worthy of pride, he felt cracked… a failure, but his heart soared the way Blaine was looking at him with so much openness and adoration.

"I love you so much" he choked.

* * *

The day passed by quickly. His dad was suspiciously cool with him skipping school, even though he didn't provide any excuses why he'd done it. And more than one occasion he found Finn hovering around him, offering to hang in his room. While the idea was sweet, Kurt declined. He needed to recheck his essay, not trusting the correction his wild mind provided in less than five minutes.

He was putting the finishing touches on the essay. His earlier idea that none of his corrections were correct was spot on and he also made a good amount of reasonable sentences incorrect. His phone rang, that's odd, he'd said goodbye to Blaine about half an hour ago, made up an excuse for Rachel about today's absence and finally texted Chandler that he has a boyfriend and continuing their questionable friendship was not uncomfortable. He apologized for leading the boy on, saying he was going through a tough time. With that, the guilty swelling in his chest for keeping secrets finally subsided. He glanced over the screen, and nearly dropped the phone.

"Oh, hey Dave. What's up?"

"Hey Kurt. Nothing much. I was visiting the facility all day. I arrived home just an hour ago. I have to thank you, Kurt. I think it's amazing there," his voice dropped a bit, "and you know, if it really doesn't work out with a program there are so many more options. There's another facility outside Lima specialized for…people like me."

Kurt tried to order his voice to become cheerful and encouraging. He really was happy for the boy.

"That's really great."

Silence dragged on.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Dave added in a serious tone, "I mean really okay?"

"I'm fine."

"I know that's not true. Is it true that you've been cutting?"

"I…"

Kurt scrambled his brain for an answer, but it seemed that Dave didn't need one.

"Was I the reason why?"

"No" the answer came immediately, horrified.

Dave sighed.

"You really didn't look good today."

"Neither did you," Kurt argued back.

"I'm going to get better. Don't worry about me. You have to know how sorry I am…"

Kurt cut him immediately, "there's nothing to be sorry about. I told you I'm fine."

"Take care, Kurt." Dave said. It was obvious that he was crying and Kurt really couldn't think of anything else to say.

"You too."

The line was disconnected. Kurt paused for a few seconds, the phone still showing Dave's contact. A fierce resolve appeared inside him and he took action before it disappeared.

_"Dave Karofsky, number registered as spam." _

* * *

A/N: This chapter was short but exceptionally hard for me to write. I hope you liked it.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Starting from this chapter the point of view is not going to be exclusively Kurt's. The last twelve chapters were necessary to get into Kurt's mind space and I'm not planning to have him rant nonstop for that long any time soon.

The idea for how to handle point of views is inspired by the very talented writer _BlurtItAllOut_. You can find more from the link in my favorite authors and stories. And this won't be the last time I will be inspired by this lovely person.

* * *

Going to school after having an eventful day such as yesterday seemed surreal. So much had happened in the past two days and on the other side, the school was still the same boring teachers and lessons. He didn't get the chance to talk to Blaine much. He was busy catching up with the lessons he'd missed. Mr. Shuester approached him in the hallway to confirm that he'd perform his Whitney song in the next glee club session, which happened to be tomorrow. Well, shit. He'd have to prepare a song as soon as he got home.

When the final bell rang, he jumped up from his seat, speeding as graciously as he could muster toward his car. He tackled someone on his way and slipped. The person caught him effortlessly. He turned around. He was so lost in thought that missed Blaine.

"Kurt, can we talk for a second?"

* * *

Blaine could see Kurt checking the crowded parking lot before taking a step back from him and plastering on a tight smile. It was painful and a bit offending to watch it. He could sense Kurt's discomfort since day one. There was no need to hide it. Blaine was nervous too. He tossed and turned in his bed until late and when he could finally sleep, his alarm clock started ringing too soon and after hitting the snooze buttons too many times, he'd overslept. Meaning that, he couldn't get to the coffee until after the first period. The majority of his first class hadn't recognized him, with puffed up eyes and barely-there hair gel, yawning and dozing off. He couldn't wait to get home and catch up with his sleep but he had to talk to Kurt, first.

"How are you feeling?" he began carefully.

Kurt was more relaxed after the question and his answer was an honest "good". He told him about the Karofsky's call last night and how he didn't have a clue what to sing tomorrow.

"Kurt," he was watching Kurt's expression carefully as he proposed the main thing that was going into his head as long as he'd find out, "what do you think about getting some help for yourself?"

The answer was going to be negative, excuses were going to be made, and Blaine could see it by the way Kurt's eyebrows creased but his expression turned soft, showing that he was thinking about how to think of ways to decline.

"Just hear me out. You've been dealing with emotional bullying," he grabbed Kurt's hands, not letting him talk, "yes you were, for almost a month even. I'm scared to even think about what was going on in your head in that time. Kurt, I could see that something was wrong. And you were ki...harming yourself," Blaine stuttered the word, his eyes filled with unshed tears, "it's very serious, Kurt. You can't just ignore it."

* * *

"Ignoring it" was the way Kurt had planned to get over this last month of his life. Pretending it didn't happen. But, Blaine's concerned and near crying state made him think again. Getting terrified of a text didn't stop, he'd skipped lunch. He still thought that with time everything would get fixed, it just needs some quiet, normal time and telling people, much less a professional would just complicate things. Dave's text of "_therapist should really be changed to the rapist… Because that's what they'll do to you, they'll rape your mind,_" echoed idly in his mind. But then again…

"I'll think about it."

* * *

Kurt's answer was all Blaine was hoping for. He suppressed performing a full-on happy dance right there. His excitement was barely contained and could see an amused smile tugging on the corner of Kurt's mouth. He gushed, "Oh, Kurt. I'm so glad. And relieved. It's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine. I just wanted to remind you that all of us are here for you. Me, your dad, Carole and the whole glee club. Even if you don't decide to get professional help, you know, we're always here. A shoulder to cry on, vent or just cuddle and watch movies. I know I am."

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice was serious.

"Yes?"

_Did I say too much? Was I too assuming? Oh my gosh, of course I was. I'm gonna shut up. Wait, I am not talking. I'm going to stop thinking. But that can't be done. What…_

"You're babbling like a school girl," Kurt laughed affectionately, "and I love you."

_Phew._

"Love you too." Almost a year of saying the sentence and still his heart would double beat. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure, get some sleep."

"I will. I'm looking forward to hear your song and watch you knock everyone out."

* * *

"Saving All My Love for You", a song about infidelity. Definitely a wrong message, he could almost see Blaine panicking. Next.

"It's Not Right but It's Okay", a song that would sum up the relationship drama in New Direction perfectly. Next.

"Where Do Broken Hearts Go", "Didn't We Almost Have It All", too depressing, he'd definitely cry in it and he can't pull off puffed up eyes. Next.

Rachel and Santana had already preformed "So Emotional". Also, too cheerful, too flirty. Next.

Kurt had been going through his Whitney playlist at top speed. None of them were catching his eye and frankly, he had half a mind to say "pass" to the whole ordeal. What has become of Kurt Hummel, willing to give up an opportunity for a solo to Rachel Berry?

What's the purpose of this stupid assignment anyway? So they dedicated one song to Whitney because it felt right at the moment. It doesn't have to be a week of songs.

He knew if this was Lady Gaga, he'd be arguing with Mr. Shuester to make a month instead of week. Just, sometimes, finding the right song is so hard.

_I also want you guys to use her songs to get underneath your own feelings. _

Kurt lay in his bed, letting the playlist shuffle and drowned in his own thoughts. Feelings?

A knock on the door interrupted his train of thoughts and made him realize he'd been napping the past half an hour.

"Hey buddy, what's up?"

* * *

Burt Hummel stared at the thoughtful figure of his son, lying on the bed. Music sheets were scattered around the bed , but despite his chaotic room, Kurt looked much more composed than the last time Burt had entered this very room.

"Hey dad. Nothing, just getting prepared for an assignment."

"Oh, is it for that fancy school of yours?"

"No, it's not for NYADA. It's an assignment for glee." Kurt nearly rolled his eyes, but stopped as soon as he saw Burt's "don't you dare roll your eyes at me" look. Good.

"How come you're not going on and on about that NYADA program anymore, huh? Or I don't know making the list of the apartments in New York and what should remain here and what to take with you?"

To be honest that was the least of his concerns. Kurt had been acting peculiar lately. He wasn't baking, as Finn would often complain loudly, _too often, really_, several times a day. When it's his turn to make dinner or lunch, he won't make all those difficult French named foods. He made pasta last week. Generic, normal pasta, without any complicated sauce names that he'd scoff and explain the recipe the whole dinner time. It tasted wrong.

Sometimes, he would look at him that reminded Burt of when Kurt had been just a kid, after almost setting fire to the kitchen or having a bad nightmare or just a terrible day at school, which happened more often than not. It was sadness and a look of guilt for needing help. But now, Burt could see a mix of fear in it, in the way Kurt would look away almost immediately or distance himself.

Then yesterday Kurt told him he'd ditched school. God knows Burt doesn't blame him. He's got his fair share of ditching school, often to go hang out with his friends in his teenage years. Maybe the reason was the sleepover. Now that's another fishy business as far as he was concerned. First, Blaine nearly runs out of the house. Next thing, he's back and asking permission to stay the night.

Sometimes a father just got to worry. At least they're both very mature kids and he trusts Kurt to come to him. They may not have very much in common but they've been taking care of each other, often from afar, as long as he could remember.

"If this is your way of kicking me out of the house and getting me to move out…" Kurt says with a smile and his posture relaxes. They know each other far too well.

"Of course not, kid. I just want to see you excited again."

"I _am_ excited."

There's that look again. He can't stand seeing that look on his son's face.

"If it makes you happy, I'll start listing the items as soon as I figure out what song I'll be going to sing. I have been thinking about this method of labeling the items, I just need to get my post-its."

"You know I'm not kicking you out. In fact, I don't want you to go. Screw it. I just want everything to stay the same. Didn't you realize that in the past weeks we don't watch TV together anymore?"

"I had my suspicions when last time you suggested doing dishes and declared an early night and headed to bed. I don't get it. So why have you been skipping that?"

"Because I don't want you to go!"

Burt came to Kurt's room to check up on him, preparing to give a speech, expressing concern over Kurt's recent behavior. But Carole was right. There were more unresolved thoughts in Hudson-Hummel household that needed to be talked about.

"I'm confused, dad. You want everything to stay the same but you're hiding in the kitchen and skipping out television time because there's going to be no more television time?"

"Ah, you don't get it yet. I know you got a taste of it when you lost your mom, but it's just like the older you get, you just see none of it lasts."  
Hell, last year he didn't know if he could make it to the next. But he did and had the best year of his life all thanks to his little boy. He made a family. _They_ made a family. The house wasn't too big anymore.

"Yes, you and I will always love each other, and you and I will always be there for each other, but, you know, as soon as you walk out our door towards New York, everything's gonna change. And it won't change back. Not to the way it is now."

That's what Burt had been so scared of. Everything was fine, more than fine actually. Who knew about the next years, with both boys gone?

"You think when you're going to visit us in the breaks we'll watch television and discuss the news just like old times? The best case scenario is catching up on Friday night dinners. And then you're out of the door. Next year, this house will be too quiet with only me and Carole."

He could see unshed tears in Kurt's eyes and he'd hung his head during his talk. He didn't want his boy to feel guilty. He just wanted him to understand.

"Listen, I am so happy for you. Kurt, really, I am so proud, you know that. Sometimes I just, I want my sweet little boy back. I'm gonna miss you, Kurt. A lot."

That was when Kurt leaped up from his bed and threw himself in Burt's arms. With the same trust in his eyes that his dad would catch him and won't let him fall. He'd grown taller than Burt was and hugging back with a strength that showed very well how different, yet still the same he was from his childhood.

"I'm gonna to miss you, too, dad."

"I just wanted to make sure everything's fine with you. You know that I'm here when you want to talk. Don't be afraid to come and talk to me, ok kid?"

Kurt looked surprised but nodded.

"So, TV after dinner?" he asked.

"You betcha, kid. And no sneaking Vogue for you."

* * *

Kurt would find an appropriate song for tomorrow if it would kill him. But his dad's speech made him think a lot. He never thought about the things he'd miss when he would move out. He had been doing it all wrong up until now, checking off his calendar, counting days to be an adult, stand on his own feet, become independent. He'd forgotten to cherish these months.

_These next few weeks will be your last here at McKinley._

He hit the next bottom and froze as the song started.

_Express and explore what's really going on with you._

**_Share my life, take me for what I am_**

**_Cause I'll never change all my colors for you_**

_Lots of... saying good-bye._

**_I don't want to have to go where you don't follow_**

**_I won't hold it back again, this passion inside_**

**_Can't run from myself_**

**_There's nowhere to hide_**

_To the last four years of your life._

**_Don't you dare walk away from me..._**

**_I have nothing, nothing, nothing_**

**_If I don't have you_**

* * *

Kurt didn't realize the song had ended and the shuffle landed on "Heartbreak Hotel", which he'd accidentally added to the playlist. He got up eventually and locked the song on a repeat, before warming up his voice and trying to go through the lyrics. He didn't have time to brood over how the song hits home.

* * *

A/N: Chapters are getting harder to write, and not for lack of the writer's talent. I have to admit I've been thinking of just abandoning the story. The act of writing and publishing and too much heartache to write a new chapter. Oh well, I'm not strong enough to get the idea out of my head so you'd probably be stuck with me and whining, hopefully.

Songs used in this chapter:

"I Have Nothing" by Whitney Houston.

"Heartbreak Hotel" by Elvis Presley.


	14. Chapter 14

It had been a busy day. He'd done his math homework in English class, his English essay in History and in History, well, he took a nap, burying his head in his arms, with his book as his pillow. It was nearly the end of week and the teachers cared more to get the students to not burn the class down. So, getting them to listen seemed a luxury.

The final class was glee and he was fairly confident that he'd give an outstanding performance. He had his headphones on during the breaks and he could belt out any part, without messing up the lyrics.

Mr. Shuester arrived soon enough and told them there would be an optional glee meeting tomorrow afternoon to sum up the week. The only ones left with scheduled performances that day were him and Blaine and Kurt got up to start.

He felt the familiar butterflies in his stomach. His eyes found Blaine in the middle of second rows and Blaine smiled encouragingly at him. He looked at the other faces staring at him, _friends_, something he hadn't experienced outside these walls, people who stuck together despite their many flaws.

The piano played the opening part. Other instruments began to softly pour in. There was a pause when he was supposed to begin the song and he started.

_Share my life_

_T-t-take me for what I am_

His voice seemed to be stuck in his throat. He could feel his eyes well up and his throat close up further in panic. He saw the glances his friends frozen on him, varied between bored to panic and worried.

The band played a few beats and repeated the part he was supposed to sing, but his body, his mind wouldn't cooperate.

_Cause I-I'll n-never change?_

The next verse came out as a question and he closed his eyes in shame. _Failure._ He could feel the tears trickling down his eyes and he leaned on the piano and brought out his hands to cover his face. It was easier to pretend that this wasn't happening. He felt someone grabbing his hand and the other on his shoulder and he was blindly led out of the room.

* * *

As soon as Kurt started the song something seemed seriously wrong. Blaine looked around to see if anyone else noticed but it didn't seem so. Kurt sang the first verse with so much difficulty that if he hadn't known better, Blaine would've thought he didn't practice the song or messed up the words but when Kurt started to tremble and his hands shook and his mouth quivered, he knew he guessed wrong. His heart broke when he heard Kurt crying. Kurt kept glancing between the door and the group staring wide-eyed at him. He seemed stuck. It wasn't time to signal the club to vacate the room or act busy or anything, so Blaine led him out of the room, his mind overdrive on what could've happened.

* * *

In the history of the glee club, there were very few occurrences of the performance being interrupted, especially by the performer themselves. The members often stormed out dramatically in the end, but almost never broke down in the middle of the song. The one time it happened had been Tina's Valentine serenade to Mike, back when he was at Dalton madly in love with Blaine who was in turn crushing on Jeremiah. He heard the gossips then, how much Tina was snickered behind her back. In the following month Santana, and once Puck, declared the song they were going to sing "not suitable for crybabies". As far as Kurt could remember Tina never sang an emotional solo afterwards. That argument happened over a year ago and was long forgotten.

Now it would Kurt's turn to be ridiculed, and in the only place in school which he could hold his head up high and relax. The sobs got louder and as much as he tried fighting with them, it only made them find the way out more forcefully, almost choking him in the process.

He could feel the body beside him, _Blaine, who else could it be? _try to pull away, but he clutched tightly and hiccupped brokenly, "Don't leave me, please."

There was so much pain. And at first Kurt couldn't even make sense of the images flashing in his head. He couldn't make sense of the reason he'd started crying. It just was so much pain to deal with alone. It felt like having a heart attack, waves of memories, distress, misery, _anguish _wrecking through his chest.

The sobs had gotten quiet and he was sniffling idly, marveling at the soft feeling of Blaine massaging on his shoulder to lower back.

"Better?"

The pain struck yet again at the calm, yet slightly panicked tone his boyfriend spoke and he began crying again, trembling in Blaine's arms, his mind no longer cooperating with him to pull himself together.

"So much pain," he managed to gasp out before falling back to Blaine's arms again.

* * *

Never, Blaine was sure of it, never, he'd seen the boy look so distressed and out of control. He was getting hysterical and with each gut-wrenching sob, Blaine was left to support most of their weights against the row of lockers.

It didn't take long to understand that Kurt wasn't going to calm down anytime soon and each time Blaine would offer a comforting word or two his cries got louder. He was so relieved no one else followed them out of the choir room.

The peace and quiet of the empty hallway finally had the desired effect and Kurt eventually calmed down for real. He didn't look up from his curled up position against Blaine's shoulder and that scared Blaine, a lot.

Kurt was the one breaking the silence, his voice dangerously monotonous, "so, when can you get me the number for the therapist you mentioned?"

"How do you feel about tomorrow? Or I could set up an appointment for the next week or anytime in the next month." Blaine was silently panicking. Was something wrong?

"Tomorrow's good. Just to get over with this."

"Umm, Kurt," Blaine started cautiously, "care to explain what's going on with you."

"I don't know," Kurt's voice was muffled by his own hands rubbing on his face. Kurt _never_ rubbed his face or eyes.

"I just want to make sure I'm really fine and won't go crazy anytime soon and cry my eyes out on a stage. I'd have no chance if I pull a stunt like that in my NYADA audition."

"Stop, Kurt," Blaine interjected quickly, "you're not going crazy. I'm sure you've been bottling up everything for a while now. I've seen you becoming obsessed, surrounding yourself with tons of work. I'm no expert but I guess this was just your body's way of showing that… "

"It had enough? Time out time?" Kurt stared back with such intensity and Blaine could only nod in response.

"Well, my body sucks. It could've waited some minutes more and then break down. Now, everyone would think I'm a freak and more diva than Rachel Berry. Fuck, I couldn't even finish the song."

"Don't think about it, okay? I'm sure they'd understand."

Kurt huffed in disbelief. "I even kept you from singing your song."

"Kurt, don't be ridiculous. It doesn't matter. I doubt Mr. Shuester would bat an eye about it."

"He's going to kick me out of the club. Or, fail me. NYADA won't accept someone who failed his glee club."

"Calm down. No one's going to kick you out, okay?"

"What song were you planning to sing?"

Kurt asked instead. Blaine immediately took the silent offer of subject change.

"If I told you that."

"Nice one, Anderson." Kurt grinned naturally enough. "You had to have your George Michael in a Whitney week. Too bad she didn't record a song with Lady Gaga or that would've been my first choice. "

Blaine laughed aloud at the description bordered on rambling his boyfriend provided at what would happen if the two completely singers clashed into one song. At the back of the mind the true reason for singing the song hummed. Everything was going to get better, or at least, it had to be.

_Would you be there for me_

_Could you dare to hold me_

_Will my feelings leave me lonely_

_If I told you that_

_I wanted to see you_

_And If I told you that_

_I'll always keep you_

_What would you say_

_If I told you that_


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Well, I'm back again with a brand new chapter.

Also, I have a new one-shot called "See Right Through Me". It's written from Kurt's POV in early season two. I'd appreciate it if you'd check it out in the meantime.

* * *

Kurt didn't get much sleep that night. Saying he was anxious was the underestimate of the year. More than once he changed his position on bed and rearranged his pillow. More than once he ignored the idea to call Blaine and have him cancel the appointment tomorrow. It had been a ridiculous, spur of moment idea. And now, he had no idea what he was going to do or more importantly what he would say. He was tired of imagining scenarios in his head, which usually ended with the therapist throwing him out of the room or suggesting him to admit himself to psychiatric ward. But, he never got tired enough to sleep.

When he saw the light of dawn entering his room, he sighed and settled for a long shower. He hoped the shower would calm him down and prepare him for the long day about to come.

He skipped breakfast, coming out of his room late enough so he could only get a fruit bar from the counter and dash towards the car.

The first and second period was almost bearable. The students were too tired to make any loud noises so the teachers resumed their daily dose of droning lectures without a single interruption. The only other sound was Kurt's and a few others pen taking notes.

The bell for lunch rang and Kurt considered spending it in the library, trying to improve his song selection for the audition in one of the few computers which would be free that time.

But, all his planning aborted as he glanced up at the door. Blaine was standing there, leaning casually against the door frame, smiling like he knew Kurt's intentions.

"Hello stranger," he greeted him. "Ready to head for lunch?"

* * *

Kurt had to suppress a grimace. They filled their plate, salad for Kurt, rice with squishy meat thing for Blaine. He picked his tray and headed to the table glee kids currently occupied, leaving Blaine to pick up more stuffing.

The group was talking together in groups of two or three. Most were discussing what they were going to do in the weekend. Some were planning to ditch the "not-mandatory" glee meeting today and honestly, Kurt had half the mind to do so himself. The other half was complaining that he didn't need to be alone with himself before the appointment any more than he already was.

He looked at his lunch disapprovingly when it suddenly disappeared from his view. Blaine sat down beside him and put a new tray in front of him. Kurt looked the contents, cynically.

Rice with cooked carrot and a glass of warm tea.

"What the hell, Blaine?" He asked in shock.

Blaine just dumped the salad he picked into his own tray and smiled innocently at him. "You shouldn't be eating salad. It's hard to digest and it's going to make you nauseous. Judging by how pale you look I guess you didn't have breakfast either, am I right?" he didn't wait for a reply. "So, sweetened tea is going to keep the blood pressure in check while rice and cooked carrot are easy to digest and contain sugar and will give you energy."

"How did you even get this stuff?" Kurt asked curiously.

"The lunch ladies were eager to help." Blaine replied, gesturing to the back of the cafeteria. Kurt turned around to find four of the lunch ladies, smiling and waving fondly. He waved back dumbly and stared at Blaine.

"I think they either like me or I have some sort of "underfed child" writing stamped on my forehead."

"Probably both."

Kurt had to admit the food tasted good and although he couldn't finish all of it, he managed to keep some of it down.

He murmured a thanks when he returned the tray back to the place the lunch ladies were now sitting.

* * *

"Would you give me the address of, you know," his throat was suddenly dry, "the therapist?"

Blaine looked confused for a moment, the books he was picking from his locker swayed in his hand, "Don't worry about it. I'm going to drive you."

"You don't have to…" he started but Blaine cut him off, "Seriously, I want to. I know you're strong and all but I'd feel better if I come with you."

"Fine. I guess I'll just tell Finn to drive the Navigator home."

Kurt didn't argue further. He knew they both had to have each other around, at least this afternoon. When Blaine proposed to skip the practice for a little mini-date slash make-out session it was very tempting, even irresistible.

But then Kurt remembered the clock ticking away mercilessly. How many more practices were left? How many weeks before goodbye? He wanted to cherish those moments with all of his friends and not miss out on anything anymore than he already did.

It didn't surprise him that the optional meeting had more people participating than an ordinary practice. Even Puck with his bad-ass excuse to buy some chlorine for his pool-cleaning business was present. This was glee, after all. Kurt felt some suspicious glances thrown at his way, no doubt debating whether they would receive an honest explanation for his yesterday's outburst. He was glad that they thought better than that. Instead, he allowed himself to bid farewell to the star, the singer everyone admired the best way they knew how.

* * *

Kurt had taken over the wheels. Blaine insisted upon it and opted to play with the radio and give directions instead. He didn't want Kurt to think that Blaine considered him weak in any sorts. It was just that, he knew that Kurt would need moral support or a distraction, maybe both when he came out of the room. Regardless of what would happen and revealed in that room, Blaine knew it was scary to face it alone. His mother had been staying the one hour talk in the first ten sessions, mostly because the cast on Blaine's hand was forbidding him to drive around by himself. But for whatever reason, he was glad to see a familiar face when coming out of that room.

"Are you going to tell your parents about this?" Blaine asked.

"If I decided…if it was necessary to continue the therapy, I don't see any reason why I should hide it from them." Kurt answered calmly.

"Take the next path to the right and then straight ahead. We should be arriving at about half an hour."

* * *

Soft classic music was playing from the speakers. Several news articles were hanging on the walls. A bunch of magazines were thrown carelessly on the table. The interior was made of wood and designed in warm-autumnal colors which Kurt approved. They approached the receptionist's table to announce their arrival and she told them to sit and wait for her to announce the next patient.

He sat down on the comfy chair, forcing Blaine to sit a few seats further. He glanced around nervously and kept his hand on his crossed foot to keep it from bouncing up and down.

This morning he had chosen his attire with extra care. He didn't dwell much like he used to on his clothes but this was important. He had to make an impression in case he decided to freeze up in the middle of the talk. He had chosen toned down colors and a plain outfit. No skinny-jeans or tight fitting shirts. The only subtle touch was the spider brooch resting securely on his dark blue shirt. Since he wouldn't have time to go back home to change Kurt had a similar outfit resting in his bag in the car. In case the current outfit got ruined by a slushie or other abuses that seemed to flow naturally in McKinley.

"Kurt Hummel, the doctor will be seeing you now."

* * *

A/N: My first mini-clifie! But not to worry. The next chapter is mostly done and will be updated in a few days.

Reviews are always appreciated.


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